You Found Me
by LadyOfGlencairn
Summary: Slade Wilson didn't die on Lian Yu and makes his way to Starling City to prove it. Framed for a crime he didn't commit, he needs Oliver's help to clear his name. Part of the team of helpers is righteous lawyer, Laurel Lance. As different as chalk and cheese, Slade and Laurel are forced to work together. Before long, sparks fly. Set after "Chemicals React."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: An idea popped into my head and refused to leave it. What if Slade Wilson and Laurel Lance met? What would that dynamic be like? After some careful consideration, I decided to find out. Thank you to all the readers and authors who helped me make the decision. :) **

**This story is set just after Tommy and Thea's wedding in "Chemicals React."**

**Australian slang:**

**Offsider: an assistant, helper**

**Spit the dummy: Get very upset at something**

**Bloke: Man, guy**

**Built like a brick shit house: Big, strong guy**

**Thanks for reading. Reviews are always welcome. :)**

**LadyG**

* * *

Slade Wilson was in a lot of trouble.

After being shot and presumed dead on Lian Yu, barely alive, he'd been captured by the Australian Government, and smuggled off the island. After a period of recuperation in which he'd been mostly isolated, he was damned as having betrayed his country by joining the ranks of Edward Fyers. He'd been interviewed relentlessly for months before being threatened and eventually brutally tortured.

Confused, and driven half mad at their continued accusations, he'd pronounced his innocence over and over, not understanding why his explanations were falling on deaf ears. Then one day, in the midst of a particularly vicious interrogation, the operative responsible for questioning him had slipped up, giving him some insight into the reasons for his captivity and everything had fallen into place.

Bill Wintergreen had been clever. Despite being the one to betray his nation, he'd framed Slade, making it look as though he'd been the mastermind, forcing Bill to help him and Fyers if he wanted to stay alive. What made matters worse, Slade had killed Bill when he'd found out about his friend's betrayal, but now, his claims that the former agent had been the dirty operative were rejected in favour of the supposed evidence which indicated that he'd murdered his partner to ensure his silence. Nothing he said seemed to make any difference at all. They thought him guilty and faced with the false trail left behind by Bill, no one would even give him a hearing. Instead of being labelled a traitor, Bill was hailed as a hero who'd died in service to the Australian Secret Intelligence Services.

For the past four years Slade had been kept in a secure ASIS location somewhere on American soil. The only reason they'd kept him alive was because they believed he was in possession of information that would help them determine what Fyers end game had been. Since Slade knew nothing about it, they were at an impasse.

However, five days before during a routine change of guard, his ex-handler, and only remaining ally, had created a diversion, allowing Slade to escape into what he'd later realised was a wilderness somewhere in the San Francisco Bay area. Armed only with a compass and a map, he was guided to a location where some supplies had been stashed. Once there, he'd laid low for a few days, wanting to make sure that the search for him had widened considerably before attempting to move on. Free for the first time in years, he'd hardly had a moment to revel in the sentiment before having to figure out what his new strategy would be in order to ensure his survival.

So while he plotted and planned, he'd tended to his wounds; various cuts and bruises on his face, chest and arms. He'd also given himself a basic haircut and shaved the scraggly hair from his face. It had been such a long time since he'd experienced the simple amenities that the feeling was almost completely foreign.

He'd wanted to kill each and every one of those operatives standing guard over him, jeering and taunting him daily with all manner of humiliating statements. It had taken every ounce of his will and superior training to remain focussed on what needed to be done, waiting for the moment when he'd have his chance. He wasn't stupid either. He knew that if he succumbed to his desire to send them all to an early grave, he'd significantly reduce his chances of ever clearing his name.

After staying off the radar for three days, he'd erased all traces of his temporary hideout in a small cave shrouded from sight by a dense thicket of bushes, collected the gear left for his use and started the hike that would take him out of the wilds. With a change of clothes designed to disguise him further, he'd blended in fairly well with his surroundings.

He'd slept in the mossy base of an old tree the previous night and set out again at dawn. Not that he'd slept much. Closing his eyes meant letting his demons in. He'd avoid giving them free reign for as long as he could.

After twenty minutes of meandering, he huffed and puffed, glaring at the landscape in disgust. Not that he was disappointed at the view, it was spectacular. Breathing in the fresh mountain air, he revelled at being able to walk unrestricted, no one dogging his every move. His vision stretched as far as his eyes could see, his senses coming alive. There was greenery everywhere, seemingly impenetrable forest surrounding him in all directions.

What he loathed was his weakness. A few years back he'd have been able to run over the hills before him in a matter of hours without even breaking stride. At the rate he was going, resting every so often and doubling back time and again to hide his tracks, it was going to be another long day. After so much time with limited exercise and rations for food, he wasn't anywhere near the peak of his former fitness levels, but while in captivity he'd tried his best to remain as active as possible. As a result, he still had the same powerful build he'd always had, but his planes of endurance were seriously compromised.

Taking a deep breath, he forged on, knowing he needed to make some headway before nightfall. He hoped he'd be able to find a pay phone somewhere. If not, he'd have to find a safe place to rest before he attempted to hitch hike a ride into the city the following day. The second option didn't sit well with him. He was sure the ASIS had men scouring the roads looking for him. Trying to catch a ride could result in his recapture and should that fate befall him, he knew there'd be no getting away a second time.

Knowing exactly where he was filled him with the greatest sense of purpose he'd felt in a long time. He had a plan and he hoped he'd be able to execute it without anything going wrong. He was less than seventy miles from Starling City, a mere leap from the one man with the resources to help him gain his freedom permanently - his former island escapee and friend, Oliver Queen.

* * *

Laurel Lance sat at her computer at CNRI and frowned at the screen. Nothing seemed to be working properly. First her internet connection had bombed out and now her incoming emails were coming through in drips and drabs. She had a ton of cases she was working on and losing time while IT sorted out their gremlins was something she couldn't afford.

Frustrated, she pushed her brownish-blonde hair back from her forehead and grabbed the phone.

"Greg, it's Laurel," she said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice.

The tech responded in his usual flirtatious manner. "Hey, beautiful. How can I help?" He made a kissing sound into her ear.

She rolled her eyes and cut to the chase. "My internet is down and my email is slow. Is there a problem?"

"Damn. So you're not calling about your hard drive?" He sounded so disappointed that she might have laughed if she hadn't been so annoyed.

Her computer had crashed the previous week and he'd managed to put it back together, but there was still some work that needed to be done.

"Not this time," she said. "And Greg, don't start with the floppy disc jokes again. I'm a lawyer, you really don't want me suing you for harassment." She wouldn't, of course, he was harmless. On a regular day, she'd indulge him by laughing at his corny jokes and pick-up lines, but she didn't have the time right then.

He sighed. "One of the servers is down, but I'm working on it. You should be back up and running within half an hour, max."

"Thanks." Then feeling bad about her brusque behaviour, she added in a lighter tone, "You're the best and you know I less than three you."

She could almost see him smile at the rejoinder that would send his heart to geek heaven as she placed the receiver back on its cradle. Thirty minutes before she could get back to work. Perhaps it was time she took a break.

Deciding to grab some coffee, she headed out.

* * *

Big Belly Burger was partially empty, though not unexpectedly so since the lunch time rush had already died down. Sitting at the counter, Laurel removed her beige coat and ordered a latte. Looking around, she didn't notice the masculine presence beside her until he spoke.

"Fancy seeing you here."

Laurel whipped around and smiled fondly at Oliver. "Me? You're the billionaire. I didn't know you still hung out in low places," she teased. Laurel knew that wasn't true. Despite being richer than Croesus, he wasn't a snob.

He was dressed formally in a grey suit and white shirt, probably grabbing something to eat between meetings.

He smiled broadly. "You know me. I do like seeing how the other half lives." He ordered some coffee and a take-away sandwich.

She laughed. Oliver had mellowed a lot since his marriage more than three years before. He was still the same, but that heavy cloud that had always seemed to hover above him was gone. Clearly marriage and family life suited him.

Laurel was happy that he'd found someone to love. In fact, everyone seemed to have done just that except her.

"How's Tommy and Thea?" she asked casually.

Her former boyfriend had married Oliver's sister a month before. Laurel wished them well, but she couldn't help feeling like she was stuck in reverse when all her childhood friends were moving forward.

"Enjoying the Bahamas, according to the email I received yesterday." He thanked the waitress who placed his beverage before him. "We don't expect them back before the end of the month."

"They seem really happy," she commented, thinking back on the beautiful wedding.

Oliver nodded. "They are. Believe me," he said, looking at her, "no one was more surprised than I was when they got together. But they love each other and in the end, I guess that's all that matters."

Laurel knew he wasn't being insensitive to her feelings, but she still felt a pang at his words. "It is. I'm glad for them." She stared into her coffee cup.

Oliver put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You'll find the right guy for you, Laurel," he said sincerely.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. Brightly she smiled, "Yeah, I know." Except she didn't really. She didn't know if she'd ever meet someone who made her feel the way the wives of her two ex-boyfriends clearly made them feel.

"I thought you were seeing the new ADA? Weren't you at the wedding together?"

She shrugged. "Jack is a great guy, but he's not looking to settle down anytime soon. I think I'm looking for someone who is thinking a little more long term."

"I'm sorry," he said, with a sad smile.

She waved a hand at him dismissively. "Please don't be. It's not like I was in love with him." Needing to change the subject, she threw a question at him before he could respond. "How is Felicity and Robbie?"

She watched as a genuine smile curved his lips upward, his blue eyes filled with warmth. She couldn't stop the stab of envy she felt. "Fantastic, thank you. Felicity is back at Queen Consolidated full time and Robbie is at day care. Thankfully, he's just a couple of floors away from both of us. I don't think she would have wanted to leave him anywhere else." Laurel suspected that neither would he, but didn't say anything.

"He's so cute, Ollie."

"Thanks." He grabbed his take-away. "I need to run. You should come over for dinner sometime. I know Felicity would love to see you again."

Laurel waved noncommittally as he exited the diner. While she and Oliver's wife were friendly, they weren't exactly _friends_. She didn't know if she felt comfortable socialising with them now that she and Tommy were no longer together. _That's an understatement._

He was now an official member of the Queen family by marriage. That made her the outsider. Apparently being a workaholic really wasn't good if you wanted a relationship to last. That's why she and Tommy had broken up. They'd both spent too much time worrying about their work and not enough preserving what was between them. In the end, he'd broken up with her and she couldn't even argue with his reasons. They were true. Evidence of just how true was confirmed when he'd married someone else less than six months later.

She wasn't bitter about it, or even upset. She knew that he was happier now than she would ever have been able to make him.

She loved her job and she was extremely good at it, but at the end of a long day it was cold comfort. Her best friend, Joanna, had moved back to her mother after her brother had been killed and Laurel missed her every day. They talked on the phone regularly, but it just wasn't the same.

With Anna gone and Tommy married, she'd never felt more alone.

* * *

Slade hid behind an old, abandoned outhouse as he surveyed the truck stop ahead. Nothing looked out of the ordinary and he was pretty sure that there were no cops around. Taking his chances, he pulled the black baseball cap lower to shield his eyes and swung the backpack he was carrying over his shoulder.

Casually, he strolled up to the pay phone on the side of the dingy diner, making sure to avoid eye contact with any of the truckers milling around. For the most part, everyone seemed too absorbed in their own business to pay much attention to him, a fact he was grateful for. The less people poking around, the less bodies he'd have to discard.

Hoping he had luck on his side, he quickly scanned the worn telephone directory until he found the number he was looking for – Queen Consolidated.

He knew Oliver had been rescued. His guards had gleefully given him the information, knowing how it would affect him since his own freedom had been a thing they would never have willingly granted him. But they'd been wrong. He had been happy to hear of his friend;s return to civilisation.

Hastily putting the call through, he looked around cautiously as he heard the cultured tones of a woman manning the switchboard.

"Queen Consolidated, how may I direct your call?"

"I'd like to talk to Oliver Queen." His voice sounded a little rusty, even to his own ears. The Australian accent was as pronounced as ever.

He could almost hear her hesitation. "I'll put you through to Mr Queen's personal assistant."

He heard the line go silent before the tranquil sound of running water filled his ears. He gritted his teeth in annoyance while staring at the notice board above the phone, scanning the headlines of a week old paper disinterestedly. A name on the front page caught his attention, along with the small square picture beside it.

Laurel Lance. _Why does that sound familiar? _Then he remembered. She'd been Oliver's girlfriend before he'd been stranded on the island. He looked at the formal portrait absently. She looked more mature than she had in the only other photo he'd ever seen of her.

"Mr Queen's offices," came another brisk and efficient voice and Slade immediately forgot the woman and her picture.

For a second time he asked to speak to Oliver.

"I'm afraid Mr Queen is in a board meeting and not available to take any calls. Should you wish-"

He tried to be calm as he interjected, "I need to talk to him. It's urgent."

Miss Efficient continued talking as though he hadn't said a word. "As I just said, Mr Queen should be available in about an hour's time. You are welcome to leave your name and-"

Slade lost the fragile hold he had on his patience. "Listen offsider, before I spit the dummy, you go in there and you tell your boss that the bloke he once agreed was built like a brick shit house needs to talk to him. _NOW!_ And if that doesn't get his arse in gear, tell him it's a matter of bloody life and death!"

He heard her gasp at his tone of voice, which he knew sounded rough. He hadn't meant to let the slang slip into his speech, but when he was aggravated, he couldn't always help it.

There was a prolonged silence after his demand and he sighed in frustration.

About to repeat himself, he heard her reply, "One second."

More running water. He cursed under his breath.

"Who is this?" came the suspicious voice he recognised from what felt like a lifetime ago. He nearly sagged against the wall in relief.

"It's Slade Wilson. I'm alive, mate and I need your help."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Australian slang: Ankle biter – young child**

* * *

Slade had kept to himself and retreated to the abandoned outhouse to wait for Oliver. To say that the other man had been astonished to learn that he was alive would have been an understatement, but since he didn't have the time to explain, he'd given his friend his location and asked him to come quickly.

While he felt a certain measure of relief at knowing that help was on its way, the larger part of him resented even having to ask. He was a man of action, a loner by nature. For most of his life he'd been conditioned to act alone, to find solutions to any problem by himself, to accept the challenges thrown his way and to make the best of any situation. He didn't ask for help, it wasn't how he was made. Instead, he lead from the front, he faced any attack head on, without fear or hesitation.

However much the warrior within him screamed at the injustices levelled against him, wanting nothing more than to squelch every last man who'd betrayed him, his practical side held his ire in check. _Just_. He was weakened and without resources. Going into this situation blind would be the equivalent of a suicide mission. While he didn't fear dying, he rebelled against doing so under a cloud of falsehoods and lies. His career, and by extension his reputation, meant far too much to him. If he was going to clear his name, he needed more than brute force on his side, he needed the wherewithal to find the evidence that would prove his innocence.

His current status as a fugitive in a foreign country made acting independently more than a little challenging. Alone, he wouldn't last very long, even with his smarts and ingenuity.

Spying a fancy sedan heading in his direction, he squinted into the late September sunshine convinced that it was Oliver, but needing to be absolutely sure. When he saw the back door open and a tall man in a tailored grey suit emerge, he smiled for the first time in way too long. Gone was the young, pampered pup he'd met on the island years before and in his place stood the powerful and skilled fighter he'd mentored.

Leaving the safety of his hideout, Slade called out, "Still the same rich bastard I met a lifetime ago, aren't you?"

He watched as Oliver's eyes widened in shock, his eyes travelling over him rapidly, sizing him up. Slade didn't blame him. In his shoes, he would have been equally suspicious.

"It _is_ you," Oliver said, apparently satisfied with his appraisal. The younger man threw his arms around him as they hugged, ending the embrace with a few manly slaps on the back.

"How? I saw you die," Oliver murmured, confused. The driver's door of the sedan opened and a dark skinned man stepped out.

Immediately on the defensive, Slade swiftly withdrew his gun and aimed it at him. "Who the hell are you?" he snarled.

"Whoa!" Oliver lifted a hand and placed it over the gun, then turned to the driver. "Dig, lower your weapon." He turned to Slade. "It's okay. That's John Diggle. My," he seemed to hesitate for a fraction, "security."

Slade stared into the driver's dark eyes, his gaze assessing. Lowering his weapon slowly, he placed it back in the holster at his side before picking up his bag from the floor.

"Gone soft, kid? Last time I saw you, you didn't need a bodyguard."

Having noted that Oliver's stature was indicative of someone who was in good physical shape, he wasn't quite sure why he needed to keep a man around to watch his back.

Oliver shrugged, smiling at the familiar nickname. "My family insists, so I indulge them."

Slade couldn't put his finger on it, but something about that explanation seemed off. He knew how well Oliver could fight if he had to. There was no way any personal security detail would be better at defending him than he was at defending himself. However, there would be time for questions later. They needed to get out of there.

"I'll explain everything. But first, we'd better get going." His eyes scanned the surroundings as he spoke.

Oliver nodded, immediately all business as they climbed into the back if the idling vehicle.

* * *

"The department is forcing me to take a vacation. _Forcing me._ Can you believe it?" Detective Quentin Lance exclaimed in abhorrence, running his hands through his thinning grey hair. "Do I look unstable to you?" he asked his daughter without waiting for her response. "If a man wants to work, why not leave him to do what he does best? No, they threaten me with suspension if I don't take a break."

Laurel watched as her father moved around restlessly in her apartment. For the last half an hour he'd been complaining about his Chief asking him to take some time off voluntarily, or face being ordered to do so. Neither option seemed to appeal to her father.

"Dad, you've been working for a year none-stop. According to labour regulations, the SCPD are already in trouble for allowing it. They could get into some seriously hot water if they allow you to continue without taking a break. They're not calling you crazy," she replied reasonably.

She understood that her father's life was his job as a cop. After Sarah's death, he'd thrown himself into his work with a fervour that was almost maniacal, every other aspect of his life suffering as a result. It had been his way of working through his grief, finding an outlet for all the pent-up rage he felt at life's unfairness.

He waved his hand at her dismissively. "I don't care for the politics, Laurel. My job," he gave her a direct stare, "which I happen to be really good at by the way, is to catch crooks. How do I do that while sipping _piña_ coladas beside a pool filled with near naked teens who should probably be in school instead of blowing their parents cash?"

She held her hand out to her father and watched him roll his eyes before he flopped down onto the couch beside her. "You need to take a break. I wouldn't like the Chief to order you to do it, so I'd like to believe that you're smart enough to realise that you should do the right thing before it reaches that stage."

He glared at her. "What the hell would I do for six weeks?" he challenged.

Laurel looked away, thinking. "Err…you could go fishing?" She heard him make a choking sound and added quickly, "Okay, so maybe fishing isn't your thing, but I have heard you say to Uncle Jerry many times that you'd visit when you had the time. This would be perfect. Who knows, you may even end up enjoying yourself," she said hopefully as he groaned into his hands.

"I can't believe you're suggesting I sit beside a river for hours while I wait for a fish to take a nibble on a worm."

Laurel laughed. "You don't have much of a choice. Granted, you don't have to go fishing, but you do have to take a vacation. Get used to the idea and start making some plans." She tucked her arm into his and lay her head on his shoulder.

He sighed heavily. "Isn't my daughter supposed to take my side?"

"Not when you're being a stubborn mule and fighting a battle you simply cannot win," she said gently.

Laurel could almost hear the cogs turning in his head. "What if something happens to you while I'm gone?"

She lifted her head, her green eyes flashing in disbelief. "Dad, crime is Starling City is at an all time low. I seriously doubt that all the criminal masterminds are timing their sprees to coincide with your holiday."

His forehead crinkled as frowned at her. "Tone down the sarcasm when you're talking to your old man, okay?"

She smiled as she hugged him to her side. "I can take care of myself. You've made sure of that. It's only a couple of weeks. I promise you're going to end up having a great time."

He threw his head back against the pillows, closing his eyes. "Fine. I'll go…fishing," he spat the word out in distaste and Laurel burst out laughing.

He kissed her forehead and stood. "I'd better get back to the station and apply for official leave." He rubbed his eyes in annoyance as he said.

Laurel hugged him before she waved him off. She agreed that her father needed to take some time to himself. While he may not enjoy sitting around for hours, she knew that he'd learn to appreciate the quiet and hopefully come back refreshed and ready to dig in again. _I hope._

Clearing the coffee cups from the table, she heard her cell phone ring. Her caller ID didn't recognise the number, but she answered anyway.

"Hello?"

"Laurel? It's Felicity." She was momentarily taken aback, not expecting a call from Oliver's wife.

"H-Hi," she replied, not knowing what else to say.

Undaunted, Felicity launched into speech. "Oliver told me that he bumped into you at Big Belly – you know, I've never seen you there before and I'm a regular, we should do lunch sometime – anyway, he mentioned that he'd asked you to come to dinner?" Laurel heard the other woman continue in run-on sentences and tried desperately to keep up. "I thought it was a great idea and I was wondering if you'd stop by tonight? I made some lasagne and realised that there's way too much for just the two of us and I could personally use some female company since Thea left." If she hadn't been listening so attentively, Laurel might actually have burst out laughing. She liked Oliver's wife a lot. "I know it's really short notice, but can you make it?"

Caught unaware, she couldn't think of any reason to refuse. "Errr…yeah. That would be great, thank you."

She heard Felicity squeal in delight. "Wonderful. Come around to the house by 7.30pm."

"I'll bring some wine," she added after thanking the other woman a second time for the invitation.

Great. She was doing the one thing she hadn't planned on doing – staying in social contact with the Queen's. It was one thing to run into Oliver or Felicity or even Tommy and Thea for that matter, at a café or restaurant. Those were public places and it was bound to happen from time to time. It was quite another to hang out with them in their homes.

"Well, you've just accepted. So grin and bear it, Laurel." She stomped into her bedroom to find something to wear.

* * *

Slade was driven straight to Oliver's home. On the ride there, he explained how he'd been captured by his government and how they'd kept him hostage for the past few years in the hopes of determining Fyers plans. That done, he explained how he'd managed to escape.

Throughout the conversation, Oliver had listened, his attention solely on him as he absorbed the reality of his existence. He'd asked many questions and Slade had answered them honestly. He had nothing to hide and if he hoped to procure his old friend's help, he knew there could be no secrets between them.

Right from the start he realised that Oliver was no longer the man he'd left behind on that island. Gone were the fears and doubts that had clouded his every waking moment. Even once he'd learnt to become a skilled fighter, those innate reservations had never quite disappeared. Back then he'd been a privileged boy, stranded in the middle of nowhere, initially relying on the help of others to survive. Eventually he'd come into his own, but Slade had never quite stopped thinking of him as a kid who'd learnt some of life's harshest lessons at the hands of mad men.

However, the man beside him was no longer that boy. He was back to wearing designer clothes and riding around in expensive cars, but there was a maturity in his eyes that Slade was surprised to see. There was also a measure of shrewdness, intelligence and cunning. The sight made him feel oddly proud. Oliver had survived that island because he'd left his playboy persona behind and manned up, doing what was necessary to live to see another day.

Slade knew that some of what they'd done hadn't come without a price. He paid for his sins every time he closed his eyes and lost consciousness. He saw the men he'd killed, those by his own hand and those whose lives had merely been a means to an end, their faces haunting him. He went straight back into the torture chambers, reliving every horrific memory as though they were happening all over again. Sometimes he woke up screaming, drenched in sweat, his heart racing a mile a minute.

Shaking his head, he banished those thoughts. Now was not the time for them.

Sitting in a chair in the library of Oliver's palatial home, he felt out of place. He wasn't used to such luxury and opulence. Although the house was clearly lived in, no one would ever call it sparse and basic. Those were the only surroundings he felt safe in. The very bare essentials. It was all he knew.

Fighting the urge to fidget, he accepted the drink that Oliver placed in his hand.

"I still can't believe you're alive. You have no idea how I've relived the moment of your shooting over and over in my head." Oliver had removed his jacket and had seated himself opposite him.

Slade gave him a small smile. "There were moments I wished I'd died, mate. I can't go back there." His voice hardened. "I won't. They'll have to put a bullet through my brain before I spend another second locked away."

Oliver looked at him sharply. "We'll find a way to clear your name, Slade. I promise. You're not going anywhere until we get to the bottom of this mess."

"May I ask how exactly we're going to do that?" It wasn't as though Oliver went up against powerful governments every day.

His friend gave him a peculiar smile. "You'd be surprised at what money can buy. My wife is one of the most skilled hackers around. If there's a shred of evidence, anywhere, that can exonerate you, she'll find it."

Slade gave him a confused look. "Hacker? I thought Laurel was a lawyer."

Oliver burst out laughing and Slade frowned. "I'm not married to Laurel. Suffice it to say, things between us didn't work out. I married a remarkable woman called Felicity."

For the first time Slade looked at the photographs around the room. The cute blonde was definitely not the woman he remembered from Oliver's photo.

"Your wife's a hacker?" he asked curiously.

Oliver's lips curled up. "In her spare time. He day job is Head of IT at Queen Consolidated."

That made sense. Kind of. Though why she'd need to hack, he didn't understand.

"You've got an ankle biter too?" he asked in disbelief, spying a picture of a baby.

Oliver nodded, laughter and pride evident in his eyes. "Robbie is six months old."

Slade grinned and leaned forward, slapping Oliver on the shoulder. "Congratulations. You're in for the ride of your life."

Fatherhood was one of the greatest blessings that could ever be bestowed upon any man. He thought about his own son, Joe, and his heart flooded with sadness. He hadn't seen his boy in more than four years. There was nothing he wanted more than to clear his name and get his son back.

The front door opened and Slade was on his feet immediately, tension evident in every line of his body.

Oliver looked at him worriedly. "That must be Felicity." He placed a comforting hand on his arm. "You're safe here." It didn't escape Slade's notice that their roles were completely reversed. Now Oliver was the one looking out for him.

He relaxed fractionally as an effervescent blonde with black rimmed spectacles breezed in, a baby on her arm. She was wearing a dark blue coat that was belted at the waist with low heeled boots.

"I'm sorry I'm late, traffic was a nightmar-oh!" she said as she walked toward Oliver. "I didn't know we had company." Slade watched the couple closely as they embraced. It had clearly been a love match. The look of adoration on his friend's face was mirrored by the identical look the blonde sent his way.

Oliver took the baby and kissed his cheeks. Slade felt uncomfortable, like an unwanted third wheel. The intimate family scene reminded him of something he'd never experienced and was likely never to. He stood up straighter, biting down on his back teeth. The life of an agent was a lonely one. He'd accepted that a long time ago.

"Felicity, this is Slade Wilson. Slade, my wife, Felicity."

He watched as the woman's eyes rounded behind her glasses. She glanced at Oliver and then at him, then back at Oliver.

"Wait. Surely not _the_ Slade Wilson? Mentor, fellow captive, ASIS agent who-is-supposed-to-be-dead, Slade Wilson?"

He blinked in surprise. She knew who he was. He glanced at Oliver. The other man shrugged.

"Felicity and I have no secrets," he said, by way of explanation.

Slade walked forward and extended a hand toward the woman. "One and the same. I've apparently risen from the dead," he said sardonically.

"Oh wow. This is huge. I mean, not like huge huge. Actually, it is huge huge. Oliver thought you were dead. How is it possible that you're not? And how did you end up here? By the way, I like your accent, Mr Wilson. I've never met a real Australian before. And I don't mean that condescendingly, of course, it's just-" Slade stared at her. The woman didn't seem to know how to stop talking.

"Felicity-" Oliver said in amusement.

She stopped and pinched her eyes closed. "I'm talking too much, aren't I?"

_Christ. Yes._

"No," Oliver said. "I'll fill you in, later. I'm sure that Slade would like to get some rest." He turned to him. "Let me show you to a guest bedroom where you can grab shower and get comfortable. When you're ready we can put our heads together and see what we come up with."

Slade nodded. The truth was, he felt like he needed some time to himself. He'd have thought that he'd crave the company of people after having been alone for so long, but he felt a little overwhelmed. And exhausted. Now that he'd finally stopped moving, his body was telling him that it was time to regroup.

Oliver showed him to a large bedroom on the second floor. He promised to send him a fresh change of clothes and anything else he might need.

As his friend turned to go, Slade caught his arm. "Thanks, brother," he said simply.

Oliver nodded, his eyes letting him know that he understood.

* * *

It was already dark when Laurel made her way up the Queen's driveway. She'd decided to keep things casual and wore dark blue jeans with a navy and white striped sweater under a red blazer. The heels of her boots clicked on the paving as she made her way to the front door, a bottle of red wine in her hand.

She stopped suddenly as she heard a swishing sound coming from the side of the house. Curious, she went to investigate. Rounding the corner, she stared into the darkness, the lawn completely shrouded in shadows. There was only some faint light coming from the first and second floors.

Hesitating, she heard the swish again. Moving forward, she stepped carefully, following the direction of the sound. She couldn't really see all that well, but the noise was growing more distinct. When her ankle sank into a small hole, she cursed. The swishing immediately stopped and Laurel frowned, suddenly feeling some trepidation.

Deciding to abandon her foolish plan, she turned around and walked straight into a brick wall. Or at least it felt like one. Her arms were grasped in a steely vice. She stumbled backward, a shaft of light falling over the face of her attacker, but leaving hers shrouded in darkness.

She gasped at the sight of the black ski mask, the eyes cut out to reveal chocolately brown orbs, cold and deadly, rooting her in place. She could feel her heart rate accelerate as her mouth went dry in fear. She wanted to scream, but the sound lodged in her throat and refused to burst forth. Frozen in position, she just stared.

Then, out of the dark a gruff voice demanded, "You've got exactly ten seconds to tell me who the hell you are."


	3. Chapter 3

Slade knew the person he was holding captive was a woman. While he couldn't see her face, the softness of her curves against his hard planes was a dead giveaway.

He'd been outside, preferring the darkness to the light. Feeling more comfortable and at ease in the shadows, he'd spent the past hour going through his martial arts routines, needing to exhaust himself physically before he attempted to sleep. He knew what awaited him but at least if he was tired enough, he wouldn't lie awake tossing and turning for hours. The sense of freedom he felt at being able to move unrestricted, slowly and rhythmically performing the exercises was relaxing. It was the only time he could afford to shut his mind down completely and just allow himself to feel.

His peace, however, had been shattered when he'd heard someone walking toward him. He'd known that it wasn't Oliver or Felicity because he'd left them inside the house, aware of need for privacy. He acknowledged that there was a paranoid side to him, one that had been heightened by his imprisonment. He supposed that living with the reality that death could come at any moment, at the hand of any person, had a way of making him wary of all strangers.

When he'd heard the presence of someone he was unfamiliar with, instinct had taken over. He'd pulled the mask that had served as a make-shift beanie down over his face and set out to pursue his perceived pursuer. Now, holding the woman close to him, his gut told him that she wasn't a threat.

His grip on her loosening, he was about to let her go when a knee connected with his groin. He inhaled sharply before a load moan issued from the back of his throat, pain exploding between his legs.

"Christ!" he groaned as he tried to hold himself upright.

"Stay away from me!" came the shrill voice of the woman who'd just maimed him.

Before he could reply, he felt a surprisingly firm fist connect with his jaw followed by a swift kick to his midsection. Not knowing if he was amused or annoyed, he hissed, "Calm down, woman!"

He tried to reach out to grab her as she ran past him, but his hand missed her leg by inches. When he'd managed to get back onto his feet, she'd already rounded the corner of the house, heading toward the front door. He pulled the mask off his face and set off after her.

Finally entering the light, he saw the woman pounding on the door hysterically. Her hair was a warm chestnut brown that bounced across her back and over her shoulders as she slapped her palms against the entrance. When she looked around and saw him coming toward her, the bashing grew louder as she shouted, "Ollie!"

_Laurel Lance?_

* * *

The front door opened and Laurel almost fell through it. Oliver was standing there gaping at her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned.

She shook her head frantically. "There's a man," she pointed outside, "with a mask. He attacked me!"

Immediately on high alert, Oliver shoved her further inside and stalked out. From where she was standing, she heard, "Slade? What the hell-"

"She kicked me in the nuts!" came the reply before he said something else that she couldn't decipher. "I thought she was an intruder."

The two men came into view, her attacker limping slightly. His rather distinct accent made it clear that he originated from Down Under. In the light of the foyer, she could see that he was tall and solidly built. Wearing long black cargo pants and a black zip up hoodie, he looked huge – and threatening. If the scowl on his face was any indication, he wasn't very pleased by her actions.

The thought made her stand up straighter.

There were fine cuts and bruises all over her assailant's tan coloured features, most of which seemed to be healing already. His forehead was high, his nose large, but perfectly proportioned in relation to the rest of his face. His jaw was strong and angular with a spattering of day old stubble covering the lower half, the hair on his head straight and naturally spiky. If she hadn't been so intimidated by his size and suspicious of his intentions, she might actually have found him somewhat attractive – in a rough, dangerous and broody sort of way.

Oliver walked inside. "This is a friend of mine, Slade Wilson."

"I didn't know you befriend men who attack defenceless women in the dark," she said angrily, her heart rate finally returning to normal.

At her words, Oliver's friend scoffed, his eyes shooting daggers in her direction. "Defenceless? My old fella begs to differ. I've encountered rattle snakes who are more defenceless than you are, woman."

Laurel gasped at his sheer nerve, her face flooding with colour. She didn't need a doctorate in Australian slang to know what he meant. The man was crude and insufferable!

"This is the brutish company you keep, Ollie?" she asked, growing angrier when she noticed that her _former _friend was trying really hard to keep a smile off his face.

Oliver cleared his throat. "Slade, come on, that was out of line."

Running a hand along his jaw, the barbarian declared reluctantly, "Apologies for mistaking you for an intruder, Laurel." She wasn't sure if he believed him to be sincere. "You could have warned me that your former flame has a mean left hook," he added drolly, looking in Oliver's direction.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "How do you know my name?"

Oliver looked at Slade uncomfortably, as the older man turned to meet her gaze. For some inexplicable reason, her stomach did a strange flip when their eyes clashed. "I once saw a photo of you."

"Aren't you going to explain?" she demanded, frowning when he didn't elaborate.

She watched as Oliver sent his friend a look filled with disapproval.

He walked over to her. "I'm sorry about the confusion. What are you doing here?"

It was her turn to gape at him. "I was invited to dinner. The bottle of wine I brought is probably lying on the grass somewhere."

At Oliver's confused look, her cheeks burned with humiliation. "Didn't Felicity tell you?"

Just then, the feisty blonde entered. "Oh God, Laurel." She looked mortified. "So much happened…I forgot to call you…I should have cancelled before you drove all this way…" She looked helplessly at her husband.

Laurel looked at all of them. Something felt out of place. "What's going on here?" she asked suspiciously, her instincts on high alert.

"Nothing," Oliver said far too quickly. "Just some miscommunication it would seem."

"It doesn't look like nothing to me. Why is Rambo over there," she pointed at Slade who snorted rudely at her words, "attacking visitors on the lawn wearing a ski mask? And how does he know who I am?" Then she turned to Felicity. "And how is it possible that you forgot you'd invited me to dinner when you called me only a few hours ago?"

"Oliver, I've just heard that the Feds are looki-" Diggle stopped talking abruptlywhen he saw her in the room. Recovering quickly, he pasted a smile on his face. "Miss Lance! So good to see you!"

"The Feds? Ollie?" She looked at her oldest friend questioningly and saw his shoulders droop.

Felicity spoke up. "I think Laurel may be able to help, Oliver. She's a lawyer."

He looked at his wife, contemplating. "Slade, close the door."

The other man glowered at him. "Surely you're not thinking what I think you're thinking?"

At Oliver's raised eyebrow, he shook his head, looking as though he wanted to explode. "Are you going to tell everyone who walks in? At this rate I may as well put a neon flashing sign on the top of my head!"

"Wait a minute, are you some kind of criminal?" Laurel asked, her eyes bulging. She looked at his battered appearance in a new light.

"I'm not a bloody criminal!" Slade snapped, irritation clear in his voice.

Oliver addressed Slade, "Technically, you are. But we're going to fix that." He turned to Laurel, who was trying to pick her jaw up from the floor. "Can we trust you?"

Her mouth moved. "Ollie, you know that I uphold the law, above all else…"

Her voice trailed off as her mind reeled. If this stranger was evading the authorities, she wasn't sure she wanted to get involved. If she got caught in the middle, she didn't want to have to betray any friends.

"I know. But hear me out. If after I explain you still feel the same way, then I'll accept it and you can just forget we ever had the discussion."

That sounded fair. She eyed her attacker, noting that he looked less than pleased at the turn of events.

"This is a bad idea, mate. The more people you involve, the bigger the risk. Perhaps I should just go my own way." He headed toward the staircase but Oliver stopped him.

"Could we talk? Privately?"

Slade nodded imperceptibly and followed Oliver out of the room.

Laurel exhaled slowly. With the dangerous looking man out of sight, she felt like she could breathe again. However, she was more curious than ever. Whatever was going on, she wasn't leaving until she had some answers.

* * *

Slade was fuming. Fists bunched at his sides, he tried to keep his temper in check as he followed Oliver into the library, closing the door behind him. He didn't want to involve more people. The larger the number, the more indebted he's feel. He already knew that there was no way he'd ever be able to repay Oliver. He didn't like feeling as though he owed anyone. It left him vulnerable, always looking over his shoulder, wondering when they would collect and what they'd expect him to do.

"Look," Oliver began, "I know you don't think we should tell Laurel. Before, I would have agreed-"

"Exactly! I don't mean to whinge, Oliver. I know what you're risking by taking me in, and I appreciate that," he said earnestly, "but I can't chance too many people knowing about me. That's mission protocol 101." He pointed to the door. "How can you be so sure she's not going to rat me out?"

"Because I know Laurel. She has the most astonishing sense of justice. The reality is that we need someone like her. I didn't realise it until a few minutes ago, but it makes perfect sense. She has access to invaluable information as a lawyer," Slade gritted his teeth, but Oliver continued undaunted, "that we could use to our advantage. Think about it. _You_ need her."

_I don't need anyone._ But he knew that wasn't true. He wouldn't be standing there if that was the case.

Frustrated, he walked over to the window. "I don't like it."

"Do you trust me?" Oliver asked him.

He turned, staring his friend straight in the eye. There was a time long ago when he would have responded with an unequivocal no, but the history that bound them together made Oliver one of the very few people he trusted with his life.

"Yes."

"Then allow me to do this. I won't let you down."

He realised that he didn't really have a choice. He had nowhere else to go and right then, Oliver was the only thing keeping him from a lifetime of incarceration.

He lifted his hand and Oliver shook it firmly. "You won't regret this."

They exited the room and found Felicity, Diggle and Laurel sitting in the lounge. When they walked in, everyone stood.

Oliver motioned to them to sit again and joined his wife on the couch. Slade was forced to take the only available seat left beside Laurel. It didn't escape his notice that she moved subtly away from him when he sat down.

"Laurel, what we're about to tell you is highly confidential. No one can know about it. Even if you choose to extricate yourself, you need to promise me that you won't ever repeat a word of this to anyone."

Slade looked at her and watched her throat move as she swallowed. "I understand," she replied clearly.

Oliver looked at him and he nodded faintly. _Best we get it over with._

"Slade and I met on the island. He'd been stranded there before me, but for different reasons…"

Forty minutes later, Slade and Oliver had brought Laurel was up to speed. Felicity and Diggle, having heard the story before, also filled in some pieces of the puzzle. Throughout the talk, Laurel had seemed in a perpetual state of disbelief, her gaze swinging from whoever was speaking to Slade, as though she couldn't quite believe all that he'd been through.

Watching her closely, he'd noticed the softening around her eyes and mouth as she listened. He couldn't explain why, but her sympathy made him angry. Perhaps it was easier to deal with someone when they thought him an ogre. He didn't know how to behave in the face of kindness. His whole life had been harsh and it had taught him to be tough, to show no weakness. He knew no other way of being.

"So the ASIS is out there looking for you, as we speak?" Laurel asked, her gaze on him once more.

He nodded. "I think so, yes."

"They are," Diggle confirmed. "What I was about to tell you when I arrived, was that all law enforcement agencies in the country have been put on high alert. By tomorrow, your mug should be on every newspaper's front page and headlining all TV newscasts."

Slade cursed and then looked at Diggle suspiciously as a thought occurred to him. "How do you have access to that kind of information?"

"Dig is ex-military. He has some handy connections," Felicity replied with a smile.

Laurel piped up again, "Let me get this straight. If the ASIS is after you, surely this is the first place they'll come looking? I mean, they must know that Ollie was on that island with you."

Slade's heart sank. He'd been thinking the same thing. "She's right," he said, looking at everyone besides Laurel. "Once they scour the area, they're going to zero in on the people they think I might reach out to."

"We can protect you here," Oliver assured him.

Diggle shook his head. "Maybe not, Oliver. If they show up with a warrant, unexpectedly, there's no way we can guarantee that they won't find something here."

Slade had known it would come to this. He couldn't run the risk of Oliver's family being dragged into his mess. "The best thing would be for me to leave-"

"No!" Felicity exclaimed, her vehemence surprising him. "Oliver's told me how many times you saved his life on that island, Slade. You're family. We will not abandon you."

He didn't know what to say. Her declaration chipped at the ice around his heart.

Oliver agreed with her. "Felicity is right. We'll work something out."

"Maybe we can move you to one of the other Queen properties?" Diggle suggested.

Felicity grabbed her laptop off the table. "Let me check which ones are the most remote, that way we can control-"

"I have a suggestion," Laurel said softly.

Slade looked at her enquiringly. With Felicity still talking and Oliver and Diggle's attention focussed on her, he was sure that no one apart from him had heard her words.

She cleared her throat and said louder, "I have a solution."

All eyes turned toward her as she cast a quick glance in his direction. "What if Slade moves in with me?"

He stared at her in shock. _Move in with her? Definitely not!_ There was no way he'd agree to move in with Laurel Lance, no matter how temporary the situation. Trouble was never far behind him and he wouldn't place her life in jeopardy.

"No way!" he exclaimed.

"Not that the idea thrills me either," she told him pointedly, "but it's the last place anyone would look for you."

"That's brilliant!" said Felicity.

Diggle nodded. "It might work."

"Are you sure, Laurel?" Oliver asked.

"Does anyone care what I think about this?" Slade barked.

Oliver frowned at him. "It's the perfect plan. Laurel has the resources to help. Coupled with that, she's the daughter of a cop. No one would ever think to look for you there."

His eyes bulged. "A cop? Have you lost it, mate? How am I going to hide away from her cop father?" He gestured absently in Laurel's direction.

_So that's where she got her moves from._ He grudgingly admitted that he admired her for being able to defend herself. He could have easily overpowered her if he had to, but the fact that she wasn't helpless was a trait he could respect.

"My Dad's going fishing. He's leaving tomorrow for six weeks. Hopefully we'll have this sorted out by then and if not, when the time comes, we'll reassess," she replied reasonably.

"Less than an hour ago you called me a brute. Now you're inviting me to live with you?" he asked in disbelief.

"It's not like we'll be playing happy homes, Wilson. I'm doing this to help save your ass. The least you can do is sound a little more grateful!" she said, her voice rising.

"Guys," Diggle said gently, but both of them ignored him.

"Grateful? I don't have time for gratitude, woman. I'm trying to save your neck by not involving you in this," he snapped at her.

They were now inches apart, facing one another, unaware of the spectacle they were providing for the three other people in the room.

"I don't need you to protect me. As you so crudely put it, your _old fella_ is more than aware of what I'm capable of!" she said with satisfaction. "And do not address me as _woman_!"

He glared at her. "I'd prefer if you left my bits out of this."

She glared right back. "You were the one who involved them."

"Hey!" Oliver yelled and both of them whipped around to look at him.

Slade felt foolish for having been drawn into a verbal skirmish in front of the others. _How did I lose it without realising where I was? _ There was something about her that rubbed him the wrong way.

"Sorry," he mumbled to no one in particular.

"It's settled then," Laurel said, calmly pushing her hair back from her flushed face.

Four pairs of eyes stared at him. "Slade?" Oliver asked.

He knew he had no choice. The last thing he wanted was to endanger the lives of his friend's family. If he wanted to keep them safe, it was best that he stayed somewhere else. That meant agreeing to his only other option – Laurel.

"Fine," he said, not caring that he sounded curt and irritable.

"I do think this is the best solution right now," Diggle said. "We can work out how we'll meet to discuss whatever we manage to come up with."

Oliver nodded. "I think you should stay the night. We can move you tomorrow."

Slade shook his head. The sooner he left, the better.

"No. I should go now." He looked at Laurel. "Will you wait while I get my things?"

Her green eyes locked with his and found himself staring at her for a second longer than what was appropriate. She must have realised it too because hastily broke contact and nodded silently.

He stood and exited the room, not giving anyone an opportunity to argue about it.

For the next few weeks he'd be living in close quarters with the audacious lawyer who'd gotten over her fear of him rather quickly. He didn't know what was going to happen, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the decision to place them in such close proximity was probably a really bad one.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Australian slang: **

**Piece of piss: an easy task**

* * *

Laurel lead the way into her apartment wondering, not for the first time, what she'd been thinking when she'd offered to take the stoic man beside her in. He hadn't said much on the drive over and his lack of communication was setting her nerves on edge.

She couldn't believe she'd lost her temper like that – and in front of an audience to boot. She was usually the calm, unflappable one. But in no time at all, he'd managed to creep under her skin, making her to say things she'd never have said under normal circumstances.

"Well, this is it," she said, a little too cheerfully. "Not exactly up to Queen standards, but it's home."

He looked at her without any expression on his face. "It's fine."

Unable to stand the tension, she removed her jacket and hung it on the coat stand before turning to face him. He was standing awkwardly in front of the door, his backpack at his feet, looking around.

"Slade, look, I know we got off on the wrong foot and I want to apologise for some of the things I said."

Perhaps if they started over, she might feel a little better about their current arrangement. The one she'd suggested.

He just kept looking at her, not saying anything.

She felt her irritation rise again and took a calming breath. "Aren't you going to apologise as well?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What for? I didn't say anything that I didn't mean."

She turned around, gritting her teeth. She would not sink to his level.

"Right. Now that we have _that_ out of the way, let me show you to your room."

She gestured for him to follow her, not really caring if he did or didn't.

Standing in the hallway, she pointed to the various doors branching off. "Through there is the kitchen, my room, bathroom, your room."

He nodded, walking into the room she'd indicated would be his.

"Feel free to use whatever you want and if you need anything, let me-"

Without hearing her out or saying a single word, he closed the door behind him with a soft click, effectively leaving her gawking after him.

At first she felt confused, then she felt stupid and then she felt angry. This was her home, which she'd invited him to stay in for his own safety and he didn't even have the decency to thank her? Where had he acquired such boorish manners?

Incensed, she made a snap decision and barged into his room. "If this arrangement is going to wor-" Her words cut off as her eyes widened, staring at him.

He was standing with his back to her, his pants riding low on his hips, his hoodie thrown carelessly on the bed. His broad, muscular back was covered with angry criss-crossing scars, barely an inch of skin left unmarred. Some areas were still raw. She'd stumbled in on him trying to apply some anti-septic liquid to his wounds.

In the back of her mind she remembered what Oliver had told her about Slade's time on the island and the last few years that he'd been held prisoner. He hadn't elaborated much, only giving her pertinent information, but she could tell that it hadn't been sunshine and roses.

The irrefutable evidence of his pain and suffering caught her unaware and hit her straight at her emotional core. She felt a lump in her throat as her eyes met his tumultuous gaze.

"I don't want your pity," he stated gruffly.

She swallowed the lump away. "You don't have it. But what you do need is my help."

She walked into the room and reached for the bottle and cotton wool he was holding.

"I can do this myself," he asserted fiercely, refusing to relinquish the items.

"Turn around!" she commanded, her tone forceful.

Their eyes locked and green warred bravely with brown before he finally let go. He turned his back to her, his spine rigid, his muscles tense and bunched.

Rushing into the bathroom, she washed her hands quickly. Upon her return, she dipped the cotton wool into the amber coloured liquid. She only realised that her hands were shaking when she spilled some of the fluid on the carpeted floor. Raising her eyes, she stared at his abused back, the flesh puckered and red in places while completely healed in others. Someone had done that to him, repeatedly.

Her eyes welled, the tears spilling onto her cheeks and she was glad he couldn't see her. The little she knew about the man before her told her that he wouldn't appreciate her sympathy.

She dabbed at the cuts and heard him hiss in pain, flinching slightly. She wanted desperately to ask him what had happened, but she knew he wouldn't tell her and she didn't blame him. They hardly knew one another and their interaction thus far hadn't really encouraged confidences.

Her heart ached as she wondered at the type of person who could have inflicted such harm on another human being. Surely they were cold and heartless to allow that level of tyranny to occur. She couldn't even begin to imagine how it must have hurt and probably still did. Clearly his wounds ran deeper than his skin's surface.

"You know, what I was going to tell you before you virtually slammed the door in my face," she said gently, trying to make some conversation in a situation that she knew must be uncomfortable for him, "was that I understand that we don't know each other. But you're a friend of Ollie's and he believes in you and that's why I'll do whatever I can to help."

She spoke softly, her voice calm and continuous while she admired the even tan of his complexion which looked so warm and soft. She found the play of muscles across his back fascinating and far too distracting.

When he didn't say anything, she just carried on, "I guess what I'm getting at is that if we're going to make this living arrangement work, I don't expect you to confide in me, but I will ask for some measure of courtesy."

Getting used to the sound of her own voice, she almost jumped when she heard him speak. "I've been an arse. I'm just not used to being around normal people yet."

Laurel smiled, surprised by the admission. Since that was probably the closest thing she'd get to an apology, she'd take it and move on.

Task done, she closed the bottle and placed the used cotton balls inside a plastic bag which she sealed immediately.

Heading out, she watched him shrug into his sweater. "Goodnight," she said, closing the door behind her without hearing his whispered "thanks."

* * *

Slade sat down on the bed and covered his face with his hands. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched him so intimately. The feeling had been strange and initially unwelcome but Laurel's bedside manner had been surprisingly gentle and soon he'd relaxed.

He hadn't wanted her to see his scars and the proof of the cruelty he'd suffered at the hands of the ASIS agents. But when she'd charged into the room, there'd been no way he could have prevented it. He thought it was easier to just let her get an eyeful and then have that be the end of it. He wasn't ashamed of his mutilation, he'd accepted that his body was not a thing of beauty, but he didn't like to be ogled and he definitely didn't like having to answer questions about it. He'd been very relieved when she'd resisted asking any. Perhaps her disgust had kept her curiosity at bay because that was always how his disfigurement was met – with revulsion.

He lifted his head and looked around the room. It was sparse, clearly not a place that was inhabited frequently. But he much preferred it to the volumes of space he'd had in Oliver's home. At least moving in with Laurel had one plus – he felt more comfortable.

The walls were warm beige, the carpet a similar shade. The double bed covered in a deep brown dominated most of the space with a small cupboard against one wall and a chest of draws against the other. Walking to the window, he moved the curtains aside and opened the casement, letting the fresh air in. After years in a musty cell, he welcomed any opportunity to breathe in the sweet smell of freedom. It also made him feel a little less stifled. It was strange how his mind was most at ease in smaller spaces, and yet conversely the feel of a breeze on his skin somehow made him feel less confined.

He flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling, hearing the front door open and close. He knew Laurel didn't leave because he could hear the distinct pattern of her footfalls as she passed by his door.

He was exhausted. He could feel his eyelids wanting desperately to close, to allow his body some respite. But he could still hear her moving about across the hall. He couldn't risk drifting off when he wasn't sure that she was asleep first. Chances were that he'd have nightmares and he couldn't predict how he'd react to them. After not having had a decent night's rest in almost a week, he knew that his dreams would be far from pleasant. The only way he'd allow his mind to take him on that torturous ride was if he was certain that Laurel would be none the wiser.

He heard his stomach growl and he realised that he hadn't had supper yet. With his exercise regime disturbed by his host's arrival at Oliver's house, they'd spent the remainder of the evening going over all the possible strategies they could employ to ensure that his name was cleared so that he could return back home.

Getting up, he winced a little at the discomfort in his back. He knew he could go without food until morning, but it would be best for him to try and instill a healthier eating routine than the one he'd been subjected to.

Entering the kitchen he saw some Chinese take-out boxes on the counter. He could smell the delicious aroma of sweet and sour chicken and jasmine rice. _So that's why she opened the door._ Moving closer, he saw a pink sticky note attached to the bottom of one of the still-warm containers.

_It's all yours. I figured you'd come get it when you were ready._

He picked up the containers and the fork that had been set down beside it, and sat down at the kitchen table to eat. He couldn't remember the last time someone had bothered to ensure that he didn't go hungry. For a second time in a single day, he felt a tiny piece of ice fall away from the frozen mass that surrounded his heart.

* * *

The following morning, Laurel was perched beside the kitchen table when she heard the door to Slade's room open. She tried not to peek over the top of the magazine she was reading, curious to see what he looked like in the full light of day. He disappointed her by merely heading straight to the bathroom where she heard the shower run after a few minutes.

She couldn't help being inquisitive about him. There was so much she didn't know, so much she _wanted_ to know. He was a complete anomaly. A secret government agent who'd been hung out to dry by his former partner and four years later was still suffering the consequences.

There was a lot more to Slade Wilson than what appeared on the surface. She'd be willing to bet that he was about as uncomplicated as quantum physics. It was probably in her best interests to keep their relationship strictly professional. That way she could help him out; hopefully get him exonerated and then move on with her life - her boring, dull, predictable life.

Her phone rang.

"Hey Dad," she said with a smile.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this. Do you have any idea what fishing gear costs?" he asked in alarm.

She couldn't help laughing. "Think of it as an investment. You're probably going to love it so much that you're going to be begging the Chief for time off to pursue your new hobby," she teased.

He snorted. "Yeah right. That's about as likely to happen as the Queen's becoming paupers."

She rolled her eyes. "I thought you were over that vendetta."

"I just don't understand what people do with so much money, Laurel."

"They participate in tons of charitable endeavours and they're doing amazing work in the Glades. Even you admitted to that," she reminded him. "But coming back to the purpose of your call, are you packed and ready to hit the road?"

She heard him sigh. "Unfortunately."

"Then drive safely and take a lot of photos, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. One more thing. There's some foreign fugitive who's suspected of heading to Starling City. I want you to promise me that you'll be careful."

Laurel sat up straighter. Diggle had been right. The authorities were looking for Slade. Just then, he strolled into the room and she lost her train of thought completely.

Fresh from the shower, there were still droplets of water on the tips of his spiky hair. Wearing the same black cargo pants she'd seen him in the day before, but foregoing the hoodie, he favoured a plain white sweater that didn't fail to hide his very masculine physique. Not that she'd been in doubt about that after the previous night's encounter. _The man is built like a God._

"Laurel? Honey, are you there?" came her father's concerned voice, shaking her from her scandalous thoughts.

"Um, yeah. I promise to be careful," she recited dutifully. "Dad, I've gotta go. There's someone at the door. You have a good trip, and I'll see you in six weeks."

"If I survive the great outdoors," he responded miserably. "Love you, Laurel," he said before signing off.

"Cop dad?" Slade asked curiously, his bare feet making absolutely no sound on her wooden floors.

Finding her tongue, she nodded, staring at his feet. "Yes. He called to say goodbye. He leaves on his trip today." _Crap!_ He already knew that.

"A cup?" he asked, gesturing to the percolator.

"Of course!" She jumped into action. _What is wrong with me?_

She grabbed a mug from the cupboard above the sink and handed it to him watching as he poured deftly. She noted that he didn't add any sugar or cream.

"My Dad mentioned that you're suspected of being in Starling City. I thought I'd reach out to a few of my contacts and see what they know. Once Felicity has something concrete, I can look into some viable legal options we can pursue."

* * *

Slade took a sip of the warm, dark brew, trying to ignore the fact that Laurel was still in her sleepwear. Though modestly covered in grey stretchy pants and a plain v-neck pink sweater, it still didn't leave much to the imagination.

He'd admit that she was a beautiful woman, her shapely curves hard to ignore. But since he wasn't a man looking to complicate his life, how attractive she was or wasn't, was of no consequence to him. That fact established, his gaze still followed the sleek line of her neck as she lifted her heavy head of hair off her shoulders, tying it into a knot.

Annoyed at his inability to focus, he said sharply, "I don't see how they're going to find anything. Whatever evidence there was of my innocence will have been destroyed by now."

"We don't know that," she countered, frowning at his tone. "Would you like me to make you something to eat? There's eggs and sausage if you'd prefer a warm breakfast? Or perhaps cereal is your thing?" she asked, opening and closing cupboards.

Uncomfortable with what felt like too much of a domesticated scene, he replied abruptly, "You don't need to babysit me. I can make my own breakfast if I want to. Go to work. I'm capable of seeing to myself."

He noticed the flicker of hurt that crossed her face, but he ignored it. Best to make it clear that their relationship would only be a professional one. He didn't want or need any more friends.

She slammed a cupboard door closed, her eyes flashing at him. "Fine. I thought I'd try being polite, but clearly you don't respond well to good manners."

His jaw tightened. "Fixing a meal is generally a piece of piss. I'm sure I can manage," he said, deliberately trying to get a rise out of her.

He preferred conflict to kindness. He was always completely in control when faced with the former situation. In the latter, he just felt way out of his depth.

She gasped, her cheeks flooding with colour. She grabbed the box of cornflakes from the counter and tossed it at him. He caught it easily, the action seeming to anger her further.

"Urgh! You're the rudest, coarsest, most abhorrent," she struggled for more words, "beast I've ever come across!"

He raised an eyebrow at her, amused that she'd only managed to come up with those adjectives.

"I've been called much worse," he retorted. "Sticks and stones." He knew it was time to set the record straight once and for all. "I'm here because Oliver assured me that you could be of assistance. Whatever you can do to help me gain my freedom, I'm very grateful for. But I don't want your kindness and I don't want to be best mates. Hopefully before this six weeks are over, I'll be back in Oz and you can forget you ever knew me."

Her chest was heaving, as though she'd run a marathon. Some wisps of hair had fallen loose from her knot and framed her face prettily. With her eyes glistening at him furiously, he'd never thought her more attractive.

He frowned at the direction his thoughts were going in.

"That's just _perfect_!" she declared sarcastically. "I'm going to work now. I think it best for my sanity that I get as far away from you as humanely possible." She stomped off in the direction of her bedroom. She then came back as though she just remembered something else, "And if you need anything while I'm gone, don't call me! I'll be too busy helping the actual people who know how to be polite and don't insult me in my own home!"

With one last glare at him she turned around and stormed into her bedroom, slamming the door loudly.

He felt a moment's guilt at how badly he was treating her. He knew she was trying to be nice and to make him feel welcome, but he didn't know how to handle nice. He was rough and tough and mostly mean. It was best that she understood that.

Accepting Oliver's assistance was one thing; they shared a common history. He couldn't help fearing that accepting her support would, in time, start to mean more to him than it actually should.


	5. Chapter 5

Over the course of the next week Laurel did exactly what Slade asked. She treated him with civility, but kept their encounters brief and strictly professional. She didn't ask him any questions, unless it somehow related to their investigation. In fact, she hardly asked him anything if it wasn't completely necessary for her to do so.

It was hard for her to live with someone who preferred to remain a virtual stranger, but if she was going to make it through the next few weeks with her sanity intact, it was best to follow his advice. For the most part, their new arrangement seemed to suit him perfectly, a thing she resented since she was having such a hard time sticking to it.

The truth was, she hated it. Several times she had to remind herself not to talk to him, not to draw him into some kind of repartee. But since he didn't appear to have any of the problems she was having, she refused to appear the weaker of them and give in to her urge to reinstate some kind of hospitable vibe between them.

The last man she'd shared her living quarters with had been Tommy and that hadn't really been a permanent arrangement. For the most part he'd stayed over two or three nights a week and spent the rest of his time at the Merlyn mansion. Their relationship hadn't exactly been one laden with heated passions. Instead, it had been warm and comforting and with the help of time and distance since their break-up, she knew that he wasn't the great love of her life.

Sharing her space with Slade felt very different. Apart from trying to stay out of his way in an apartment that wasn't large enough to avoid someone permanently, she had to deal with her newfound awareness of him – as a woman – which she was loathe to admit to herself. Not entirely unexpectedly, she found herself running into him at the worst possible times. Like when he emerged from the bathroom first thing in the morning, with a barely-there towel hanging low on his hips, his chest a smooth, solid wall of muscle. If that wasn't enough to drive her crazy, a few times the steamy air from the shower had billowed around him, making him look like one of those sexy stars featured in T.J Scott's _In the Tub_ coffee table book.

On those, and similar occasions she'd tried desperately to keep herself from letting on that the naughty part of her brain wanted to lick him like an ice-cream. Once the wayward thought had entered her head, she had a really hard time making it go away. Perhaps it was a good thing that they weren't really on speaking terms. There was no way she'd make a fool of herself and live with the humiliating knowledge that he knew she found him attractive.

Now and then she'd heard his deep voice on the phone, the only time she caught glimpses of his sense of humour. She had grown accustomed to his accent and enjoyed listening to him speak. But since he hardly ever spoke to her, she had to rely on eavesdropping on calls he received from Oliver or Diggle. The teasing tone he used with them, he never used with her – she apparently only brought out the serious and intense side of his personality - and once the call ended he was right back to being his broody, detached self.

It was a cold evening, and everyone had gathered at her apartment to discuss what they'd uncovered in relation to Slade's case. Laurel had made a pot of coffee and placed it on the table along with some sweet pastries she'd picked up after work.

Diggle addressed the group, "As the head of Oliver's security detail, I was questioned yesterday by the SCPD. They wanted to know if I'd perhaps noticed anything unusual, if _my employer_," he quipped in amusement, "had been meeting with anyone out of the ordinary. Naturally, I didn't give anything away-"

"Quite the thespian, aren't you, Dig?" Felicity joked.

He laughed. "You learn new things about me all the time."

Oliver grinned before sobering. "They came by the house too. They didn't insist on a search of the premises, but they did ask me very pointed questions about you," he said, looking at Slade who was sitting with his elbows on the table, leaning forward.

"Could you glean anything from their line of questioning?" he asked.

Oliver nodded. "They definitely suspect that you may try to contact me, although I don't believe they think that that connection has already been established. I told them that I thought you'd try and get out of the country as soon as possible and they seemed to take that bit of advice very seriously."

Laurel piped up. "Do you think that means that they'll be more focussed on all areas that lead away from Starling City?"

Felicity, who was sitting with her nose buried in her laptop, replied. "I can answer that one," she said with a chuffed smile. "The police scanners have been very busy. They're definitely increasing their road blocks, trying to establish some kind of perimeter around the city."

Laurel placed some mugs on the table and proceeded to pour a cup of coffee for everyone, handing them around. When it was Slade's turn, she placed the pot in front of him, along with an empty mug.

"This probably falls into your realm of tasks that indicate an unacceptable degree of kindness," she said, her voice filled with mild sarcasm. "I'm sure you'd like to pour for yourself."

She didn't miss the exasperated look that flashed across his face as she walked away. Sitting in the chair furthest from him, she popped a pastry into her mouth. Everyone was looking at her strangely, but she didn't care. If he wanted to behave like a jerk, she'd treat him like one.

"Right," Diggle said, looking from one to the other curiously, "Oliver's given us some background on what went down on Lian Yu and what this Fyers dude was up to. Felicity thinks she may have found something."

The blonde, whose bright red lipstick strangely complimented her purple jersey, pressed some keys on her computer.

"My cue! It took me a while," she looked up at them over the rim of her spectacles, "and I'm only saying that so you guys can appreciate my genius, to hack into the ASIS database."

Laurel's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Where did you learn to do that?" She'd always assumed Oliver's wife was more of a software installation person as opposed to an illegal access specialist. _And you think you know people._

Felicity giggled nervously. "Oh, you know. Here and there. Anyway," she cleared her throat, "I went back nine years, to around the time that Slade and Bill were sent to Lian Yu to rescue Yao Fei. All information that was logged as a result of that mission was erased. In fact, the mission itself is no longer on their database. It's as though it never existed. That's unheard of. All missions, even the highly classified ones are always saved; their level of encryption is just amped up so that it's harder to find."

Slade slammed his fist onto the table and Laurel hopped at the sound. She looked at him and saw the mixture of fury and despair in his eyes.

"That proves what I've been saying all along. This is hopeless!" He jumped up and prowled around the room. "There is nothing left to find!"

Laurel watched him as he stalked around like a caged animal, all pent up emotion and she felt her heart softening toward him. All week she'd been telling herself that he was a brute without feeling, but looking at the misery etched upon his face, she didn't in all honesty believe that.

"I didn't say that," Felicity replied, looking pleased with herself.

Slade glanced at the quirky woman and Laurel noted the faint trace of hope in his eyes.

"What do you mean?" he asked curtly.

Not at all intimidated by him, Felicity looked back at her screen. "In cyber space there are always digital fingerprints. These days technology has evolved to the point where really gifted hackers can leave absolutely no trace of their identities behind."

She punched a few more keys and Laurel could see that Slade was getting impatient with her lengthy explanation.

"Are you saying that because the crime happened so long ago, there may still be evidence of who erased the information somewhere online?" she asked.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Slade give her a surprised look. _Clearly he thinks I don't have a brain. _The thought annoyed her.

Felicity beamed. "Correct!"

"Cyber laws are really stringent, especially in first world countries. If it can be proven that there was fowl play involved, it may not be enough to clear you," she looked at Slade in the most nonchalant way she could manage, "but it would open up the debate on why it was done and what the guilty person was hoping to achieve," Laurel added.

He looked at her for a moment longer than necessary and she swallowed convulsively, her stomach doing crazy flips.

"Have you found anything?" he asked, addressing Felicity.

"Not yet," Oliver replied. "That's the tricky bit. It could take a few days."

Felicity offered Diggle a pastry before biting into one herself, her eyes closing in pleasure. "These are my favourite." Then, she got back on track. "The good news is, there is definitely something there. I can see it, but I need to work my way through a couple of filters first in order to see the information more clearly."

"This is a big breakthrough," Diggle said to Slade.

* * *

Slade merely nodded, unconvinced. Oliver stood and walked over to him, pulling him aside and out of earshot. "This _is_ good news. We are one step closer to finding the person who erased the information. Once we have a name, we can try to establish why."

He listened to his friend's attempt to reassure him. He felt completely out of the loop. He hadn't had access to computers, their software or the internet in almost a decade. He didn't have a clue how it all worked, but everyone around him seemed to have a lot of confidence in what Felicity had to say.

"Thanks, mate. I do appreciate this."

"If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be standing here, in a position to finally repay you for the multiple times you kicked my ass on that island. I would never have survived if you hadn't," he said, smiling in remembrance.

He scoffed. "You were a pansy and you made it way too easy."

Oliver laughed loudly. "Hang in there, we're making progress. I know it probably doesn't seem like it to you, but this could be exactly what we're looking for."

Slade ran a frustrated hand over his head. "I hate being idle, Oliver. I sit here day in and day out. I need to feel useful!"

"I hear you. But you know you can't be seen outside. It takes only one person to ID you and then all this work goes to hell."

He hated to acknowledge that Oliver was right. But he was growing restless.

His friend gave him an encouraging smile and a pat on the back before returning to the table.

The past week had barely been tolerable. Why he felt that way was beyond him. He'd wanted, no _demanded_, that Laurel comply with his need to keep things simple. She'd only done as he'd asked – in fact she'd gone above and beyond - staying out of his way and only communicating with him when it was absolutely necessary.

He should have been ecstatic, but instead he felt miserable. He constantly listened to her movements around the apartment and many times he'd felt the desire to go to her, to just have a normal conversation that had nothing to do with fighting for his freedom. But he'd effectively put a stop to that scenario ever playing out when he'd behaved like a complete asshole the previous week.

He knew she was pissed off at him and he couldn't blame her. He just didn't know how to make things right. Her placing the coffee pot in front of him earlier and telling him to pour for himself was just one of the many examples of how she'd thrown his words back at him a million times in different ways. He knew he had no right to feel hurt by her behaviour, after all, it was exactly what he'd asked for, but for some irrational reason, he did. Even admitting that bit to himself didn't sit well with him.

He turned slightly and watched her at the table with the others. She was laughing at something Felicity had said, the sound almost musical and infectious. Her eyes sparkled brightly and her hair fell forward over her face before she swept it back behind her ear. She never laughed with him.

_Maybe because I've never given her an opportunity to?_

He scowled at the unbidden thought. Many times he'd overheard her talking to others, smiling or laughing at something they'd said and when she caught him looking at her, her expression would change completely, her walls going back up. He'd done that. It was because of him that she couldn't even be herself in the comfort of her own home. The thought racked him with guilt.

Despite all her behaviour modifications since he'd declared them nothing but inconvenient roommates, she'd still left lunch in the fridge and put supper out for him every night, without fail. She also continued to apply the anti-septic liquid to his back, never saying a word while she did so, but always as gentle as the first time she'd performed the task.

And he never thanked her. He didn't know how. That more than anything else, made him feel self-conscious. She kept giving, even when she was clearly furious at him, but she never demanded anything in return.

He didn't know who he was anymore. A few days in the company of a woman who he suspected was smart, caring, funny and incredibly stubborn and he was feeling things that he'd conditioned himself to never feel. Like guilt and shame and concern for someone other than himself. He rebelled against allowing those feelings to penetrate his armour. They inevitably lead to complications that he didn't want or need.

The sooner they figured out who had erased his records, the sooner they could clear his name and get him back to where he belonged.

* * *

An hour later, everyone left and Laurel closed the door behind them. She was tired. It had been a long day and keeping up the pretence of ignoring her house guest was taking its toll.

Walking back into the lounge, she found Slade still sitting there. Surprised, she did what she knew he wanted, she ignored him, stacking plates and coffee cups instead. The tension between them mounted, but still she didn't say anything. Unnerving her further was the fact that he was staring abjectly at her. Many times over the past few days she'd caught him with a similar look on his face and she wished she had some sense of clairvoyance so she'd know what he was thinking.

"Give me a few minutes and I'll be out of your way," she said, wearily.

"You look tired," he replied, ignoring her statement.

She glanced at him, surprised at the note of concern in his voice.

"It's been a long week and I've had a lot to do." Surely the conversation would now be over.

He nodded. "Working on anything interesting?" He sounded almost hesitant as he asked the question.

A little confused at his about-face, she replied nonetheless. "Other than your very unique case?" she asked with a small smile.

She almost dropped the cups she was holding when he smiled back. A _genuine_ smile. The first one he'd ever given her since she'd met him. It completely transformed his face from broodingly attractive to heart-stoppingly sexy.

Her breath hitched and her throat went dry. _There should be laws against you smiling like that._

He looked down at the cold coffee in his mug. "I'm sure there must be other cases that are equally challenging?"

Tentatively she set the crockery down and took a seat. If he was in the mood to talk, she wasn't going to do it standing.

"At the moment I'm helping a young mother fight for custody of her baby boy. The father is from a wealthy family and they want to take the child from her. Because she doesn't have the money to fight them, they think they'll win."

"And you know differently?" he asked, almost teasingly.

_Who is this guy and what has he done with the brusque one who's lived with me for the past week?_

She laughed, despite her confusion. "I'm very good at what I do."

He smirked. "Modest too."

"I'm my father's daughter; modesty is not a family trait we identify with."

It was the first time they'd ever had a real conversation that hadn't erupted into an argument two minutes in. It felt nice.

"I've heard you talking." She raised an eyebrow and noticed that he looked a little guilty. "I wasn't eavesdropping, but I couldn't help overhearing. You take on a lot of cases with kids?"

At least that confirmed that even though he hadn't been speaking to her, he hadn't been ignoring her completely either. For some reason the knowledge pleased her.

She nodded. "I do. I love children and if I can help to do what's best for them, then that makes me happy."

Something flickered in his eyes, but it was gone so soon she wasn't even sure she'd seen it.

Abruptly, he stood. "Let me help you carry all this to the kitchen." He picked up the plates she'd stacked and carried them off.

_Knew it wouldn't last forever._

Sighing, she collected the cups and followed him, turning off the lights as she went.

* * *

Thinking back, she didn't know what woke her. Perhaps it had been the heart-wrenching sound that had come from across the hall or perhaps it had been her intuition that whispered that she was needed. Either way, an hour after climbing to bed, Laurel jerked awake.

After a moments silence she heard it again, a soft moan, low and filled with so much pain her heart lurched into her throat. _Slade. _His name came to her immediately as she threw the covers off and hurried into the hallway wondering if his back was hurting.

Approaching his door quickly, she wrapped her hand around the door handle and pushed into the dark room. The window was open, the curtains drawn wide so that the light from outside cast an eerie glow onto the bed.

Slade was lying in the centre thrashing from side to side, the sheet a tangled mess as it wrapped around his legs and arms, restricting his movements. The duvet was on the floor, probably discarded as he flayed about. Again, he moaned and she moved forward without thinking, her only thought to ensure that he was okay. As she got closer, she realised that he was completely drenched in sweat, his forehead shining, his black T-shirt plastered to his chest.

Worried, she touched his shoulder, his body damp and cold.

"Slade," she whispered gently, shaking him.

He didn't respond at all, his thrashing continuing. _"No! I won't tell! Stop, STOP_!"

A sob lodged in her throat as she listened to him screaming. He was in the throes of a nightmare and she didn't have any idea how to pull him back.

"Slade," she called again, more forcefully this time.

"_I can't! Don't do this… Not again, NO!_" A tormented groan burst forth from deep inside of him, chilling her to the bones.

Whatever memory he was reliving, it had obviously been a ghastly experience.

"Wake up, Slade. It's me, it's Laurel. I'm here with you. Please wake up," she crooned close to his ear. "You're safe. No one can hurt you anymore, I won't let them." The thrashing slowly subsided, but she kept talking to him, not even aware of what she was saying, her aim to let him know that he wasn't alone. "Wake up, please. Everything's going to be okay."

She used the sheet to wipe his sweaty brow and then ran her fingers over his hair soothingly.

"Laurel?" she heard eventually, his voice hoarse and confused.

She looked up and stared into his haunted brown eyes, his gaze a little wild, her heart squeezing painfully at the pain reflecting out of the mocha depths.

"I'm here," she replied softly, her face inches from his.

He stared at her blankly, as though he didn't know where he was or what he was supposed to do.

Instinct made her run the palm of her hand over his cheek as she held his gaze, his stubble prickly against her soft skin. Without shifting her eyes from his, she did the only thing that came to mind; she closed the narrow gap between then and touched her lips to his.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Australian Slang:**

**Dipstick: A loser/idiot**

**Earbashing: Nagging/non-stop chatter**

**Yabber: Talking a lot**

* * *

Slowly regaining his senses, Slade felt her lips against his, so soft and tempting that he could do nothing but respond like a man starved for affection. He lifted a hand and drew her closer, feeling her shiver as her tank top came into contact with his damp chest. Forgetting where they were, he took control of the kiss, the sweet taste of her mouth driving away his demons, making them nothing more than a distant memory.

There was silence around them, the only discernible sound coming from their ragged breathing as the kiss continued, each of them trying to get closer. Laurel was sprawled across his chest, her hands cradling his head against her as his hands roamed restlessly over her back, finding the edge of her vest and slipping underneath.

The feel of her silky smooth skin nearly drove him to distraction. His hands trailing up her spine, he moaned softly as her tongue slid into his mouth, sending his body temperature soaring. His hands continued their exploration as he felt her tugging frantically at the neck of his T-shirt.

He couldn't remember ever feeling that way, so out of control and genuinely not caring at all.

Her lips left his, trailing sensual kisses across his chin and down into his neck. The shock of pleasurable sensation that assaulted him forced his eyes open, the ceiling the first thing he saw as his faculties returned instantly. _What am I doing?!_

"What the hell?" _Christ!_ His body was still on fire.

He watched her face as she jerked away, horrified. Her cheeks went beet red, her delectable mouth swollen, a sign of how he'd ravaged them.

Getting off him hastily, she said, "I'm sorry. You were calling out in your sleep and-"

"I'm fine now," he said coldly. "You can go."

Her eyes widened as she looked at him, clearly shocked at his words. He could only imagine what she was thinking.

He just wanted her gone. The current situation was what he'd been afraid of, her seeing him at his lowest, thinking him a pitiable creature who was damaged beyond repair and thinking she could make him feel better by giving him a few obligatory kisses. It was enough that he thought of himself as broken, he couldn't bear to see it reflected at him through the eyes of anyone else – especially her.

"Slade, please-" she whispered, her voice filled with so much hurt he couldn't handle it.

Throwing the sheet off him, he stood, his height towering above her, making her take an involuntary step back.

"Go," he growled, angry at her for making him feel again, angry at himself for allowing her inside. The latter made him unnecessarily cruel.

He watched her chin wobble in the dim light and he hated himself. Without another word, she whirled around and fled.

He knew she didn't deserve the cruel way he'd behaved but he wasn't the person that he knew she needed. He wasn't a good guy. He'd done things that would make her pretty head spin. If she knew a fraction of his sins she'd run so fast in the other direction that she'd get whiplash. By keeping his distance from her, he was actually doing her a favour.

The nightmare he'd had had been particularly vicious. He didn't know if it had been because of all the memories that had been dredged up when they'd all talked earlier, or if his mind had finally broken down, sick of holding back. Either way, the images had been so stark he'd felt as though he was right back on that island with Fyers standing behind him raking that red hot poker over his back.

He closed his eyes as he remembered: the smell, dank and dirty, his body cold and wet from the repeated dousing with filthy water. He could still remember how he'd thought of Joe every time that rod had been held across his skin, burning his flesh, the stench so overwhelming he'd gag. Or when that form of torment had bored them and they'd start devising more ingenious ways of making him talk. Except he never had.

Shivering, but not from the cold, he switched his mind off, away from those painful memories.

His skin still tingling from her touch, he shook his head, trying to get their heated encounter out of his mind. But every time he tried, he was reminded of the vanilla scent of her skin, the soft sigh of pleasure she made when he touched his tongue to hers, the way she'd held onto him as though her very life depended on it.

He cursed in frustration.

Standing, he looked down at the mess the bed was in. He'd need to get cleaned up and then tackle his sleeping quarters afterward.

He heard her bedroom door open and frowned at the sound of heels on the wooden floor. Moving toward the noise, he entered the hall just in time to see her shrugging into her coat, her legs encased in black leggings and her feet covered in black low heeled boots that covered her calves up to just below her knees.

"Where are you going at this time of night?"

She glanced up at him, her eyes so cold he was taken aback. "Out," she replied curtly.

"Laurel, its past midnight, and it looks like rain."

She didn't reply, just busied herself buttoning up her coat.

Her walked toward her, not knowing what to say. He could see that she was angry and he also knew that once again, he was the cause. His stomach twisted into knots. This was why he was better off alone. When he mixed with people, all he ever did was disappoint them.

"Did you hear me?" he asked, louder.

Belting the cream coat at her waist, she grabbed a woollen scarf off the coat stand before replying frostily, "I did. I'm choosing to ignore you."

Having never seen her so frigid, he grasped her elbow, forcing her to look at him.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice low and threatening. It was dark and dangerous. Anything could happen to her while she was alone at that time of night.

She jerked away, anger flashing in her eyes. "Don't you dare touch me!"

He flinched at the resentment in her voice.

She proceeded to shove a knitted cap on her head, her hair curling out from underneath.

"Laurel," he started, not knowing what would improve the mess he'd made of things and feeling hopelessly inadequate as a result.

He knew he'd hurt her, but until that moment, he hadn't realised how much. Shame enveloped him.

"Stop! Don't talk to me, Slade. Don't say another word, because you've said enough!" She laughed humourlessly. "Wait a minute. Let me rephrase, you haven't said much of anything, but still you've managed to make your feelings abundantly clear."

He hated the way her eyes shimmered with tears before she blinked rapidly in an attempt to make them disappear.

"Since I've met you, I've done _everything_ I could to make you feel welcome, to try and get along. I haven't asked you for a single thing, save a little consideration, which I might add, has proven to be too much for you!"

She was facing him now, her hands on her hips, her cheeks flushed with anger.

"I woke up because I heard you yelling out and I'm sorry that I was worried enough about you to wonder if you were okay, so I checked. Maybe where you come from, people just leave others who are in pain to their own devices, but where I'm from, we help where we can! That's what I tried to do, help you, but you don't care about anyone but yourself! You don't care that you're in _my_ home and you treat me like I've got some contagious disease you're afraid of contracting!"

She'd moved closer and poked him in the chest. He stood dead still, allowing her to vent, knowing he deserved every word she aimed at him.

"I get it, you have issues and all manner of problems that I can't even begin to understand, but that doesn't give you the right to make me feel like I'm nothing more than an inconvenience that you need to tolerate. I am not your personal punching bag! You do not get to hurt my feelings and pretend that it's okay! You're here because I promised to help you – I'M HELPING YOU – and yet you'd never guess the way you behave. You're surly and rude and inconsiderate and downright mean."

When she said the last word, her voice broke and he felt an overwhelming need to comfort her. The very idea was absurd since the current scenario was exactly what he'd wanted. _Isn't it?_ Looking into her tear-filled eyes, he wasn't so sure anymore.

"This isn't going to work. I've tried every way to make you see that I'm not a threat to you. That all I want to do is help you get your life back." She threw her hands up, defeated. "But you don't want my help," she said softly. "You don't want anything to do with me. So I guess that makes _me_ the problem."

She stared at him, her cheeks wet with tears. Despite the years of abuse he'd suffered, he'd never felt lower than he did at that moment.

"You can stay here until we get the necessary information to clear you. I'll move into my Dad's place. I'll continue to do for you what I promised I would. Ollie can let me know when it's over. You don't have to see me again."

She opened the door but he was faster, shutting it again. She turned around and found herself trapped in the circle of his arms. She pushed back against the door, further away from him. They stared at each other, Slade losing himself in her gorgeous green eyes.

He wanted to say something to make her stay, to have her change her mind, but the things she wanted to hear, he didn't know if he was capable of saying. But against his better judgement, he tried anyway.

"I know I've been a real dipstick since we met…Christ!" he cursed. _This isn't easy._

She didn't say anything, just stood there waiting for him to continue, so he tried again.

"I'm not one to yabber incessantly. No one would ever accuse of me delivering a good earbashing. I don't talk about my feelings." He looked away from her, feeling self-conscious. "I'm a bloke of action, Laurel. I can't be idle. I'm not used to people and dealing with regular social norms…" His voice trailed off. He was making a mess of things.

She looked at him solemnly, her eyes liquid pools of emotion and he was certain he felt the icy case around his heart crack.

"The only way anyone learns a new skill is by practising, Slade." She reached up and lightly traced a finger over the scar beside his right brow. She looked at him sadly, her hand dropping away. "I guess you're just not interested in even trying."

Without another word she picked up her purse and walked out the door. He was left speechless, staring after her, wondering if the pain radiating from his heart had anything to do with the fact that she'd essentially just left him. He should have been happy, his much loved solitude restored, but for some reason he wasn't ready to fully investigate, he felt more alone than ever before.

* * *

Laurel found herself on Oliver and Felicity's doorstep. She knew it was late, but in her haste she'd forgotten the key to her father's apartment in the draw of her night stand. Heading back to her apartment had not been an option, and with literally nowhere else to go, she'd ended up there.

She was shocked when Felicity opened the door.

"Laurel! Are you alright?"

She knew she looked a sight. Her eyes were probably red-rimmed and swollen from all the crying she'd done on the ride over. She was still trying to figure out why she was so emotional over a man who'd kissed her socks off and then practically threw her out minutes later.

"Yes…no," she confessed, not wanting to lie.

Concern written all over her face, Felicity ushered her in, locking the door behind them. Gesturing toward the kitchen where a light was still burning, Laurel took a seat at the island while Felicity put the kettle on. There was a laptop on the counter and a baby monitor beside it.

"I'm sorry to barge in like this. I-I didn't know where else to go." She removed her coat and threw it over the back of her chair. "I'm sorry!" she gushed, realising that Felicity had probably been asleep. "I woke you," she pointed at the blonde woman's polka dot pajamas.

Felicity sat down beside her. "That's okay. You know you're always welcome here. Besides, I wasn't asleep. I'm up waiting for Oliver." At Laurel's questioning look she hastened, "He's uh, working late."

Laurel nodded. "So you're sitting here working too?" She pointed to the laptop.

Felicity smiled. "Yeah. I can't sleep when he's not home yet."

Laurel wondered what that felt like. To love someone so much, to be so attuned to their presence that your body was unable to rest without having them near. She'd never experienced that kind of love before. At the rate she was going, she wondered whether she ever would.

"What's going on?" Felicity asked softly.

Laurel took a deep breath. "I ran out on Slade. Actually, I should rewind. First he had a hectic nightmare that I'm sure means he's suffering from some kind of PTSD but he's probably too stubborn to ever ask for help. Then I went to comfort him and ended up kissing him and God," she dropped her face into her hands, "it was amazing, right up to the point where he practically threw me out of his room. I was so pissed off that I got dressed and told him I'd stay at my Dad's until he got back – except that I left the key in my room by mistake and I can't go back to my apartment just yet." She lifted her head. "I think that about covers it."

Felicity was staring at her with wide eyes. "Wow. I had no idea you two were…what are you two exactly?" she asked, confused.

Laurel slumped forward, her hair falling into her face as she sniffed. "Nothing. We aren't anything. He's so brash and rude and uncommunicative it drives me crazy. From the moment I met him, he's done nothing but push me away. Every time I tried to be remotely friendly to him he just shut me down." She reached for a tissue and dabbed her eyes. "He apparently doesn't want my _kindness_ or my _friendship_. In fact, he can't wait to get away from me. I've just decided to stop fighting him about it."

Felicity stood and moved to make some tea. "You know, Oliver was the same when I met him." At Laurel's disbelieving look, she amended, "Okay, not _exactly_ the same, but he'd been through a lot on that island and it changed him. In little, fundamental ways the experience made it impossible for him to ever be the person he was before it all happened."

"Ollie wasn't an ass to you, was he?" Laurel seriously doubted it.

Felicity shook her head. "Not entirely, but he had his moments." She placed a warm mug in front of Laurel before grabbing hers and sitting down again. "But from what Oliver's told me, his experience was vastly different to Slade's. He's endured all kinds of horrors, Laurel. I'm not saying it entirely excuses his behaviour, but it does give you some insight into why he prefers to be alone, always pushing people away."

Laurel thought about what Felicity said, remembering the horrible scars on his back and how he never spoke about anything remotely personal to her. Despite that, she still couldn't help feeling like she brought out the worst in him. She'd seen him with the others. He didn't behave like that around them.

"I can understand that, Felicity, but with me, he's _different_. It's like all his bad behaviours are amplified when I'm around, as though I'm some kind of trigger. You don't know how that makes me feel."

"Have you ever thought that he acts that way around you because of how _you_ affect _him_ on a personal level?"

Laurel nearly choked. "Are you suggesting that Slade has feelings for me?" she scoffed in disbelief.

Felicity raised a hand. "Hear me out. You just told me that you two kissed. I'm assuming he was an active participant?" At Laurel's reluctant nod, she continued, "Then think about it. I'm speaking from experience here. A man doesn't kiss you if he doesn't want to. I wouldn't be surprised if he was denying himself the comfort of your friendship – or whatever," she added, amused, "because he felt like he was doing the right thing."

At Laurel's confused look, she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"He thinks he's protecting you. It's likely that he believes that he's a bad seed, damaged goods. By keeping his distance, he won't tarnish you with his innumerable flaws. I think in his mind, he'd rather hurt you now, than hurt you later."

Laurel's mind was reeling. _Is it possible? Does he really think he's doing me a favour?_ Instead of making her feel better, it made her spitting mad.

"Are you telling me that he thinks he has the right to make decisions on _my_ behalf?"

Felicity grinned at her, clearly tickled by her sudden display of anger. "Men do stupid things, Laurel. He probably doesn't see it as confiscating your autonomy. In some twisted way, it's kind of chivalrous."

She rolled her eyes. "Marriage has made you soft in the head."

"Believe me, I've had my fair share of struggles with Oliver and he's done some dim-witted things because he thought he was doing what was best for me. I quickly set him straight though," she said, smiling.

Laurel wrapped her fingers around her mug. "I guess you're advising me to go back, aren't you?"

"I'm advising that you sleep on it. In the morning, depending on how you feel, you can re-evaluate."

For the first time in hours, Laurel felt marginally better. She'd thought that by disassociating her herself from the Queen's that she'd feel less awkward about all the history between them. The truth was, Felicity had never held her past relationship with Oliver against her. If anything, she'd always extended the hand of friendship and Laurel had been the one resisting.

But no more. Felicity made one heck of a good girlfriend and she was desperately in need of one.

"That sounds like a plan," she said with a small smile.

Felicity stood and gestured for her to follow.

"Come on, I'll show you to one of the guest rooms."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Australian slang:**

**Fruit loop: Fool**

**Stickybeak: A nosy person**

**Click: A kilometre**

* * *

It was still early when Laurel made her way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Being a Saturday morning, she didn't have to rush anywhere and after her talk with Felicity, she'd had a surprisingly good night's sleep. Standing under the soothing spray of a hot shower, she'd decided to follow the other woman's advice and give Slade one last chance to prove that he had some redeeming qualities. Yet despite her resolution, his behaviour toward her the previous night still stung.

She knew she had to face him, but if she was honest with herself, she was delaying the inevitable. She didn't think she had the energy to fight another round. Deep down she knew she enjoyed their verbal skirmishes. What she didn't like was being mistreated when she didn't know why. The only person who could give her any answers couldn't or wouldn't – she wasn't sure which it was.

Standing at the kitchen counter in blue jeans and a red sweater, she took her mug and went to sit on the back porch. It wasn't as chilly as the previous day, but she grabbed a chequered throw on her way out, just in case. She loved the view of the garden and the turquoise water of the Olympic sized pool. It made her feel like she was at some expensive resort as opposed to a friend's home.

In the distance she heard the doorbell ring and was about to get up to see who it was when she heard the murmur of voices. Comfortable that Oliver was seeing to his early guest, she sat back and sipped her hot beverage contentedly.

"Laurel," came the voice that had been haunting her since she'd first heard it.

She whipped around, shocked to her core as she saw Slade standing at the door leading onto the patio. She stood slowly, her heart fluttering in her chest at the sight of him. He looked exhausted, like someone who hadn't slept at all. He hadn't bothered to shave either, because he had at least two days worth of stubble covering the lower part of his cheeks and jaw.

"You look awful-"

"About last night-"

They stared at each other awkwardly for another moment before Laurel noticed Oliver hovering in the background. Slade followed the direction of her gaze and looked at Oliver questioningly.

"Do you mind, mate? Some privacy would be welcome."

Laurel noted Oliver's curiosity. "I'll be in the study."

He walked off and they were completely alone.

"What are you doing here?" she asked softly.

He closed the door leading into the house and walked over to where she stood. He was dressed in black jeans and a black fleecy sweater. In short, he looked gorgeous.

"I was err…worried about you, so I went to your Dad's place-"

Her eyes bulged. "You went to my Dad's place? Are you insane?" Her father lived on the other side of Town. He could have been seen by a dozen different people.

"I wanted to know if you were okay. I know it was a stupid thing to do, but when I got there and you weren't there, I panicked."

She stared at him, not expecting the honesty.

He continued, "I called Oliver and he mentioned that you were here, so I came over."

He was standing in front of her, his hands fidgeting with the zipper on the front of his sweater.

She lifted the throw higher against her neck. "Well, as you can see, I'm fine."

He looked so uncertain, she almost took pity on him.

"I wanted to talk to you about last night." When she didn't say anything, he carried on, "I handled the entire situation badly. I'm sorry for being such a fruit loop."

_He says the strangest things._ Laurel could tell that it took a lot for him to apologise and she appreciated the gesture. But it wasn't as though she hadn't heard all it all before.

She sat down warily. "Slade, I know you're sorry. You're _always_ sorry. But that doesn't stop it from happening over and over. I can't share my home with you when I'm walking around on egg shells, wondering what's going to set you off next."

A look of guilt flashed across his face. "I know." He sat down opposite her. "I've been thinking about what you said." When she looked at him curiously, he explained, "You were right about everything. I have been inconsiderate and mean and I should never have taken all my frustrations out on you." He seemed to be struggling for words, as though explaining himself was something he didn't do often.

_Don't I know it._

"I'm not mad at you any-"

He held up a hand. "Let me finish. If I don't say this now, I may never." She gestured for him to continue. "I've been an agent since the time I left Uni. I was recruited straight out and it's been my life ever since. I loved the excitement of it, the physicality, the challenge. When the mission to Lian Yu came up, I didn't hesitate. It was what I'd been trained for and I wanted to go. We were supposed to be in and out in five days, tops. At least that was what we were told."

He had grabbed her coffee cup and fiddled with the handle, as if he needed something to distract him. Laurel listened intently, unable to believe that he was actually telling her something so personal.

"But that mission destroyed my life. I haven't been back home since. I haven't seen my family or any friends in almost a decade."

He was silent or a moment before he looked up and met her gaze. His eyes were filled with so much sadness it took all her resolve not to leap across the table and take him into her arms.

"I haven't seen my son." He said the words slowly, gauging her reaction.

"_Son_? You're _married_?" she whispered, horrified.

Her mind reeled at the implications. _I kissed him! _She was about to jump out of her chair when he grabbed her wrist in order to make her stay.

"I'm not married." She couldn't describe her relief at hearing those words. "I'm divorced. My ex and I share custody of Joe. Well, we did before all this happened."

Laurel couldn't believe he was a father. "How old is he?"

She saw the pride in his eyes. "Ten. We divorced when he was six months old and I left for Lian Yu just after he'd turned one."

She couldn't imagine how he must feel, torn from his child for so long without any contact whatsoever.

"Have you tried to get in touch with him since you've been with us?"

He shook his head. "I wouldn't know what to say. Besides, I'm a wanted man right now, Laurel. I have nothing to offer him. I can't drag him into this. If I tried to contact him, I'd be placing his life and the life of his mother at risk. I won't do that. No matter how badly I want to see him or just talk to him."

Her heart broke as she stared into his tormented face. He clearly loved the boy and until he was a free man again, he couldn't even be near his son. She felt her eyes well with tears.

"I'm so sorry," she said, her voice wobbling slightly.

He looked at her, gratitude visible in the depths of his eyes. "I know."

They just stared at one another and Laurel could feel the heat rising up her neck and into her cheeks. Butterflies were having a party in her stomach again. She wanted desperately to touch him, but she'd been around him long enough to know that even though he was opening up a little, that didn't mean he was comfortable with any physical overtures.

"Anyway," he said, breaking the spell around them. "My point was that spending so much time on my own has changed me. I doubt anyone I knew before all this happened would recognise me now. You were right though, I need to learn to interact with others in a way that doesn't alienate them." He gave her a small smile. "And for that, I'm _asking_ for _your_ help. Please come back home."

It didn't escape her notice that he'd risked everything to find her and apologise. She didn't know why he'd done it. After all, it wasn't as though she meant anything to him. But nonetheless, it meant more to her than he'd ever know. He'd also referred to her apartment as _home_. She wasn't sure how she felt about that either and she refused to analyse the warmth that spread though her at his mention of it.

He misinterpreted her contemplation as hesitation. "I know I'm asking a lot and you don't owe me anything. But…" He swallowed before lifting his head so their eyes could meet. "I don't want to be alone anymore," he said softly.

Unable to stop herself, Laurel grabbed the hand that was fidgeting with the mug and squeezed it tightly. She was surprised when he reciprocated, linking their fingers together. His palms felt rough and calloused against her soft, smooth skin. She quite liked the contrast.

"You're not alone, Slade. You never were." She smiled at him. "I have a confession to make."

"What?"

"I was planning on coming home before you arrived. If you hadn't stopped me from speaking earlier, I would have told you that."

She watched as a slow grin spread across his face and her heart thudded painfully against her chest.

"So, what you're saying is that if I wasn't such a control freak, I could have spared myself a long winded discussion about my dreaded feelings?" His voice was filled with amusement and she marvelled at the change in him.

She laughed, enjoying the feel of his skin against hers. "You could have. But I'm kinda glad that you didn't."

He sobered. "So am I."

Felicity opened the door and poked her head through.

"Sorry to interrupt this little… flirty, flirt," she quipped in amusement as she eyed their intertwined fingers, "but breakfast is ready if anyone wants some?"

Laurel smiled self-consciously. "I'm starving," she said, looking over at Slade. "What about you?"

"Ravenous," he replied, the deep tone of his voice making her cheeks bloom. For some reason, she got the distinct impression that he wasn't talking about food.

* * *

Slade knew that he'd taken a huge gamble, essentially risking his freedom when he'd gone looking for Laurel at her father's place. But he'd felt so guilty about her leaving, knowing that it had been his fault, that he'd hurt her. In the end he hadn't been unable to stop himself.

He'd taken the necessary precautions by staying off the main roads and had been alarmed to discover that she wasn't where she'd said she'd be. His mind had conjured up a variety of different scenarios, all worse than the one before. So he'd done the only thing he could think of - he'd called Oliver and his friend had confirmed that Laurel had spent the night with them. His relief had known no bounds.

He knew Oliver was curious to know what was going on between them, but he didn't want to say anything until he had that figured out for himself. Besides, his main priority had been to ensure that he hadn't alienated her completely with his coarse behaviour.

After a few hours alone the previous night, he'd faced the fact that he _liked_ Laurel. He liked her company and he liked the fact that she challenged him, not backing down when she didn't agree with his bullshit.

She also just so happened to be the only woman he'd found attractive in nine years. Just thinking about their steamy encounter the night before, made his blood boil. If he hadn't come to his senses, he didn't want to think about what could have happened. Not that he hadn't thought about it. He had. Over and over.

She was right. He had been taking his anger out on her, but not for the reasons she supposed. He hadn't known how to handle his growing attraction to her and the easiest way he could think of to push her away was to hurt her feelings. He wasn't proud of his tactics, specifically since they hadn't worked at all. If anything, pushing her away had only increased his fascination with her – the fact that he was at his friend's house practically begging her to give him another chance, was proof enough.

The curious looks Oliver and Felicity were giving him meant that they suspected that something was afoot. Until he knew what the _something _was, he was going to ignore them. After breakfast they sat in the study while Oliver brought them up to speed on some new developments.

"This morning Felicity managed to make her way through _the veils_, as she calls them," he said, placing his son on top of a play mat on the floor. The tyke was really cute and seeing him made Slade miss his son so much more.

Smiling at her husband from behind his large oak desk, Felicity opened her laptop. "What Oliver is trying to say, very ineffectively, is that I have some good news, Slade." She looked at him encouragingly.

He was sitting beside Laurel on a plush brown leather couch. "What is it?" he asked anxiously.

"I've got a name. The person who erased all the data on the Lian Yu mission is Alex Johnson. From the look on your face, I'm guessing that name rings a bell?"

Slade felt as though he'd been kicked in the stomach. "Yes. He was my handler on that retrieval op. We'd never worked together before, but my usual guy was on extended leave and Alex was asked to step in just before we left."

"Do you know of any reason why he'd erase all traces of the assignment?" Laurel asked.

He looked at her. "None. We weren't mates, but we got along. Prior to the mission, I'd seen him around, exchanged a few words. We were friendly."

"I took the liberty of looking into his background. The day after you were dropped onto the island, Johnston got a 400K payday," Felicity said, handing a page to Oliver, who in turn passed it on to Slade.

He stared down at a bank statement that was dated nine years earlier. "Why? I don't understand."

"You'll notice that that isn't a regular account, either. That kind of money would have raised flags at his local bank. That's an offshore account that was set up for him thirteen months prior to your abandonment. Chances are, he'd been recruited by a counter agency and been sabotaging operations ever since," Oliver added, sitting down on the floor beside the cooing baby.

"Wait a minute. Is this guy still alive?" Laurel asked sharply.

Felicity nodded. "Yes. He lives in Canberra. Retired apparently. But here's the kicker. He landed in the US three days after Slade escaped. That's no coincidence."

Slade jumped up. "Then if we get hold of him and get him to confess, my name will be cleared."

Laurel shook her head. "We'd have to be able to prove it as well. Because of the nature of your detainment, the word of some ex-agent who used to work for the ASIS won't mean a thing if there isn't sufficient evidence to back up his statement. That's assuming he makes it easy for us and talks. Best case scenario, he confesses on record."

The longer he thought about it, the more pissed off he became. That unassuming agent had ruined his life and he had almost gotten away with it. The very thought made want to punch something.

Laurel, as though sensing his outrage, turned her green eyes in his direction. "He won't get away with this," she vowed. He wanted to believe her.

"What do we do now?" he asked, barely controlling the anger in his voice.

"We find him and we see what he's willing to tell." Oliver said calmly, as though he did that sort of thing every day.

"Even all your money won't get you near him, mate," Slade scoffed. "They think I'm in contact with you, remember?"

"We'll find a way."

"I think I may have an idea," Laurel said.

"Oh I do love it when a woman comes up with the winning suggestion," Felicity joked.

Laurel smiled at her. "What if I engage him?"

"NO!" Slade exclaimed automatically, glaring at her. There was no way he was letting her anywhere near that traitor.

She frowned at him, getting to her feet. "I don't recall asking for your permission."

"I forbid it!" he said dangerously, afraid for her safety.

Clearly the word got her hackles rising. "Forbid?" she repeated with ire, her eyes flashing at him.

He stepped closer to her. "I will not have you put your safety in danger by getting close to that man."

"I'm a lawyer and generally someone of low importance, Slade. No one will bat an eyelid if bump into him casually. Besides, I've questioned hundreds of guilty people on the stand. I know how to get results!"

He shook his head, refusing to listen. "He's dangerous and well trained. He'd spot a stickybeak from 10 clicks away!"

Laurel rolled her eyes at him. "Would you speak in English?!"

The baby started fussing and Slade realised that they were practically yelling at one another. Turning slightly he saw Oliver pick up the boy and hand him to Felicity.

He cursed. "Sorry guys. We didn't mean-"

"No worries," Felicity assured him with a smile. "I'm always saying that it's good for him to be exposed to all levels of…noise."

"Laurel," Oliver said, stepping forward, "I'm not comfortable with the idea either. If he realises that you know something, he could get you out of there so fast, we might never see you again."

Slade nodded in satisfaction. Maybe that would make the stubborn woman see reason.

"Personally, I think Laurel is the perfect option," Felicity added from behind the desk. She was swaying gently, the baby starting to drift off to sleep.

"Thank you!" Laurel said, smiling at the other woman in gratitude.

Then looking back at Slade, the two of them missed the unspoken communication between the married couple. They had a plan which they'd already set in motion.

"You shouldn't be encouraging her to walk into a potentially treacherous situation," Oliver said, convincingly.

"I'm not! If Laurel hadn't suggested it, I wouldn't have said anything," she defended, equally convincing. "But the truth is, men say and do stupid things around women."

Slade realised that she was looking pointedly at him and he couldn't help feeling like she knew a lot more than he'd first thought she did.

"All I'm saying is, with the proper precautions taken, Laurel could yield some good results. Even if it means just luring him to a place where you guys can have at him."

Slade hated to admit that she had a point. "I still don't like it," he said.

"Oh, get over yourself," Laurel muttered in annoyance and he felt the distinct urge to laugh. No one else would dare say something like that to him.

"Alright," he amended. "But only if we can guarantee Laurel's safety." He looked at Oliver.

"Done," his friend said confidently. "He won't know Dig either. We can make sure he tails them closely."

"How soon can we get this show on the road?" Laurel asked.

Oliver looked at Felicity. "Three days? I want to do some recon first. Make sure we put a solid plan together."

Laurel nodded and looked at Slade. "In the meantime, you can give me some hints and tips? You know the guy – well, you know a lot more than the rest of us."

He'd tell her everything he could remember. Her life depended on it. "Sounds good."

A few minutes later he climbed into the passenger seat of her Ford Fiesta as they departed the Queen's home.

The drive to her apartment was silent, both of them lost in their own thoughts. If everything went according to plan, he could be heading back home in less than a weeks time. While the desire to see his son was as strong as ever, he couldn't quite think of anything else that made the prospect of going back an exciting one.

He looked at the woman behind the wheel and wondered if he'd never met her, if he'd still feel the same.

As they parked in the basement, Laurel switched off the engine but neither made a move to get out.

"Promise me that you'll be careful," he said solemnly.

She looked at him and smiled teasingly. "It's one way for you to get rid of me."

He grabbed her hand, completely serious. "I'm not joking, Laurel. Promise me!"

She sobered immediately. "I promise."

He nodded and looked down at her hand. Without another word, her lifted it and kissed her palm softly, lingeringly. He didn't question why he did it, just accepted that he wanted to.

Only then did he get out of the car.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Australian Slang:**

**Brekkie: Breakfast**

**Make a Quid: Earn a living**

**Moolah: Money**

* * *

On Monday morning Laurel was drawn out of her room by the enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Getting ready for work, she followed the smell dressed in black slacks and a rich, cream coloured shirt. Her black stiletto pumps clicked against the wooden floor as she poked her head into the kitchen, her hands fixing her pearl studs to her ears.

"What's going on?" she asked curiously as she spied Slade pouring the steaming black liquid into two mugs.

He turned toward her, a relaxed smile on his face as his eyes swept slowly over her form. By the time his gaze met hers, Laurel was feeling more than a little hot under the collar. He'd shaved and she itched to run a hand over his smooth jaw.

"You look beautiful," he said softly.

A little flustered by the way he was looking at her, she walked up to him and mumbled an embarrassed, "thanks" as she peered over his shoulder.

At close range she could smell him, a mixture of soap, shaving cream and a unique manly scent she'd come to attribute only to him. Even in heels, he was still taller than her. Sensing his intense gaze fixed upon her, she kept her eyes on the counter where she could see that he'd prepared breakfast.

"You didn't have to do any of this," she said, charmed despite her words.

Chancing a glance at him she noted his sheepish expression.

"I know it's not a grand brekkie and you could probably do better, but I thought I'd save you some time."

Laurel knew he was a proud man who very rarely conceded any ground to anyone. The fact that he'd done for her what she'd mostly been doing for him, struck her as profound. As promised, he was trying to make their living arrangement work and she couldn't help the surge of pleasure that coursed through her at his thoughtfulness.

She needed to be more circumspect. If all went according to plan, in a few short days he could be heading back to the other side of the world. If she wasn't careful, he'd leave with her heart.

She looked at the toast and scrambled eggs and smiled. "Thank you, it's perfect."

Sitting at the nook in the kitchen, they shared a meal for the first time.

"Why aren't you seeing anyone?" he asked suddenly, his fork halting midway to his mouth.

Laurel wasn't expecting the question and took a moment before responding.

"I was seeing Ollie's best friend, Tommy for a few years," she explained. "But things didn't work out and he ended up marrying Thea not too long ago."

He watched her intently. "Are you still in love with him?"

Laurel laughed, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "Goodness, no. We were childhood friends and I think I'll always care about him, but I'm not in love with him anymore."

He seemed to like her answer, if the small smile that played around the corners of his mouth was any indication.

"What about you?"

He looked at her with raised eyebrows. "You think I had time to date while being held captive?"

She rolled her eyes. "I mean before you left for the island." She tried to appear casual, stirring some sugar into her coffee. "Were you seeing anyone?"

He bit into a piece of toast and took his time chewing. For some reason his delay in answering made her nervous.

"I didn't have time for a relationship back then. I was newly divorced and the ex and I were trying to be civil for the sake of our son. He was my main priority."

Laurel didn't question the relief she felt at knowing there wasn't some woman waiting for him back home. Although it seemed unlikely considering that it was almost a decade since he'd last been on Australian soil.

"Why did you divorce?" she asked curiously. Then realising that it was perhaps too personal a question, she shook her head. "You don't have to answer that."

He stared down at his plate. "The long and the short of it was that I was an agent. My work was my life. In the end she got tired of waiting at home while I went off for weeks, sometimes months on end. So we split."

He made it sound simple, but she didn't believe for a second that it could have been. "Do you regret it now?"

He looked up at her and she could tell that he'd asked himself the same question before.

"No. Whether it happened then or some time later, we wouldn't have worked out. I guess we were just too young and we wanted different things."

She could understand that. It had been the same with her and Oliver and then ironically with her and Tommy. Different people who'd wanted different things.

"At least you got one good thing out of it," she said, remembering his son.

She saw the sadness creep into his eyes and she regretted mentioning it.

"You want to know the most messed up thing?" He folded his arms across the expanse of his large chest, covered in a navy blue sweater. "I haven't got a clue what he looks like now. All I can recall are faded memories that I'm not even sure are real anymore." He laughed, but there was nothing funny about the devastated look on his face. "Sometimes I wonder if I've made them up to compensate for the fact that it all happened so long ago." He rubbed a hand over his face, clearly emotional.

Laurel's heat broke as she listened to him. Not thinking about her actions, she stood and walked over to his side of the table and wrapped her arms around him. Afraid she'd made another mistake when he didn't reciprocate, she was about to pull away when his arms circled around her, his head buried in her stomach. Her hands touched the back of his neck, holding him to her as her head bowed and rested on top of his.

"You'll see him again, Slade. I promise," she whispered softly, vowing to do whatever she could to make it happen.

* * *

That afternoon Oliver stopped by to collect him. Apparently he'd realised that Slade must be experiencing some cabin fever and came up with a way for him to get out for a few hours.

"A hike?" Slade asked an hour later as they trekked up a steep jeep track on a remote trail close to town.

"Ever since your great adventure the other night, I figured you could do with some fresh air."

They were walking side by side and Slade was loathe to admit that he was taking some strain while his former pupil hadn't even broken into a sweat.

"I'd hardly call it an _adventure,_ mate," Slade replied defensively.

"Whatever you say." Oliver smiled. "So, are you going to tell me what's going on between you and Laurel?"

He glared at Oliver who just shrugged as though he didn't care.

"None of your business," he retorted irritably.

Oliver laughed. "Oh, that tells me everything I need to know." He glanced at Slade, coming to a halt. "You like her." It wasn't a question.

Slade continued walking, wondering how he'd fallen for the oldest trick in the book. Oliver had invited him out to question him about Laurel.

He huffed. "No comment."

"Oh come on!" Oliver called behind him. "I get it. She's an attractive woman. You're spending time together…" His voice trailed off suggestively.

"Knock it off!" Slade yelled back.

Oliver jogged up behind him. "Hey, what's going on?" he asked, concerned.

"Nothing!"

Oliver grabbed his arm. "Like hell it's nothing!"

Slade stopped walking. "You want to know what's wrong?" he exploded. "Everything's wrong! I like her, okay?! I like her too much. I have nothing to offer a woman like her. I'm a fugitive! And even if I manage, somehow, to get out of this, what then? I have a child back in Oz who is my main priority. Do I ask her to move to another continent with me?" he asked, frustrated at all his mixed emotions.

Oliver stared at him, clearly startled by his outburst.

"The reality is that it doesn't matter how I feel about her. There is no future for us. We'll never work. Apart from the obvious geographical concerns, I'm a broken man, Oliver." He sat down on a nearby rock and threw his water bottle on the ground. "They took _everything_ from me. I don't know if there's anything left to give anyone." He wiped some sweat from his brow. "If all of that wasn't already enough, no offence, but it helps that you own half of the City you live in," he said, without malice. "To live one must work. I won't ever go back to being an agent. That part of my life is over. But the reality is that I need to find a way to make a Quid. I have moolah stashed back home, but that won't last forever and I won't be a noose around anyone's neck."

"If you need a job-"

He felt a surge of pride. "Don't say it. If you want us to remain friends, don't offer me any charity. You know me well enough to know that I won't accept it."

He heard the other man sigh. "I knew you'd refuse, but I had to ask."

"And I appreciate it."

Oliver approached him slowly and sank down on a smooth piece of rock beside him.

"When I met Felicity, I was a broken man too, Slade. I put her through a lot and yet she refused to go away. She stuck by me through the ups and the downs - and as a man who understands where you're coming from - I can't tell you how good it feels to stand on the other side of all that hurt and anger and have her love be the one constant thing in my life."

Slade listened to Oliver and envied the peace his friend had found.

"You make it sound easy, mate. But it's not. She's better off without me." Even though he knew it was for the best, the thought was still disheartening.

Oliver looked at him curiously. "I assume you haven't told her how you feel?" When Slade shook his head, he continued, "And her feelings?"

That was tricky. Sometimes he thought she felt something for him, but he couldn't be sure.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I think she may care about me. But I have no concrete proof of that. It would be best if she didn't."

Oliver raised his legs and rested his arms on top of them. "A word of advice from a friend who has been in your shoes before: Don't assume you know what's best for Laurel. Let her make her own decisions."

Slade looked at him incredulously. "You honestly think I would let her _choose_ me? She deserves better."

Oliver shook his head at him. "Firstly, there's a lot of life left in you so don't sell yourself short. Secondly, for the last nine years you've been robbed of making the decisions that affect your life. Would you really do that to her?"

Oliver's words hit him at his core. He'd never thought about it like that. While the decisions that had been made for him vastly differed from the ones he thought were best for Laurel, he recognised that the principal was essentially the same.

"Just think about it," Oliver said as he sprang to his feet. "Now come on. I'll race you to that peak over there," he said humorously as he set out at a moderate pace.

Glad for the change of subject, Slade jumped up, accepting the challenge.

* * *

Laurel sat at her desk and waited for the email to arrive. She'd called in a favour from a friend and ex-colleague two days before and he'd called that morning to tell her that he'd managed to do as she'd asked. The information would be emailed to her before she left for the day.

Because she knew how important it was, she hadn't been able to concentrate on anything else. A few times she'd tried to focus, but after reading the same page three times she'd given up.

She didn't know how Slade would react, but it had become a personal mission for her to do this one thing for him. Until Oliver gave her the green light to approach Johnston, there wasn't much she could do. The truce they'd managed to establish had changed the dynamic between them completely. If she'd found him attractive before, now that they were actually on friendly terms, she found him near irresistible.

She didn't know how he felt about her on an emotional level, but the one thing she did know was that he was equally attracted to her. She'd seen the looks he gave her and if she was thinking about that kiss all the time, she was certain it had crossed his mind a couple of times too.

Her phone rang and she answered it distractedly.

"Laurel, you okay?" came her father's worried voice.

She smiled. Always the cop. "I'm fine, Dad. I've just got a lot on my plate." _Technically that's not a lie._ "How's the fishing going?"

"Err…not too bad," he answered, hedging.

She burst out laughing. "Admit it, you're having a good time!"

He groaned. "All I'll say is that it's not as bad as I thought."

"I told you!"

"Yeah, yeah. I hear that the fugitive hasn't been caught yet."

Laurel shifted uncomfortably. "I haven't really been following the story."

"Well, you continue to be careful, okay? If you suspect anything out of the ordinary, you call the precinct immediately," he said, seriously.

She sighed. "I will. Now you go and catch some more fish and stop worrying about me."

"Love you, honey."

Laurel smiled as she put her phone down. At the same time the email she'd been waiting for popped into her inbox. Hastily she transferred the information onto a memory stick and grabbed her coat.

"I'm not feeling well. Call me at home if you need me," she said to her assistant as she hurried out the door.

* * *

Entering her apartment, she noted the silence. Frowning she walked in further and called out to Slade. When there was no answer, she went into his bedroom and found it empty. Panicked, she was about to call Oliver, when the front door opened and closed.

Making her way back to the foyer, she saw Slade walk in and pull off his hoodie. He looked manly and sweaty and sexier than ever. She removed her coat as an excuse to keep her hands occupied.

"Where have you been?" she asked, worriedly.

He looked up, startled to see her. "Laurel. Why are you home so early?" At her raised eyebrow he unzipped his jacket and pulled it off. "Sorry. Oliver came to fetch me. We went for a hike. Don't worry, it was a remote area. No one saw us."

Without his jacket, he only had on a black vest that was clinging to his muscled frame in a way that practically had her drooling.

"Good. Um…," she couldn't remember what she wanted to say.

He was looking at her strangely. "Are you okay? Is that why you're home early?" He moved toward her. "Are you feeling sick?"

She remembered the envelope in her bag. Nervously she went to retrieve it. "No, I'm fine. I came home because I have something for you."

He looked at her curiously. "What?"

She took a deep breath and held out the package. "Here," she said softly.

He took it from her, their fingers brushing lightly. Her heart slammed against her chest at the heat she saw in his eyes. Looking away, he broke the seal and pulled the photographs out. She'd stopped at a print shop en route home.

Recognising what they were, he looked up at her, his eyes wide, his mouth ajar.

"How?" he asked gruffly.

Her throat was dry and scratchy. "I asked a friend for a favour." At his frown she rushed on to explain, "I didn't tell him anything and he was completely discreet. I'd trust him with my life, Slade. You don't have to worry."

He shuffled through the photographs of his ten your old son. There were pictures of him going to school, some of him playing soccer, a few of him sitting with friends on the school field. The boy was tall and handsome, so like Slade. While still gangly and a little awkward, his physique showed the promise of rivalling his father's in years to come. He had dark, short hair, the same brown eyes she looked into every day and the exact same tanned complexion. On the photo where he smiled, it was like looking at a miniature version of Slade.

Laurel felt her throat burn with tears as she watched the emotions play across Slade's face. There was so much love and joy, pride and wonder but also sadness and disappointment. He kept looking at them, flipping one over the other repeatedly, as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

When he raised his eyes to look at her, she saw him as she'd never seen him before – vulnerable and emotionally raw, a sheen of tears clinging to his lashes.

Laurel stood transfixed as he walked toward her. Gone was the strong and brusque man she'd come to know and in his place stood someone so unguarded and exposed, she could hardly believe they were one and the same person.

He stared at her for what felt like ages before he moved so close to her she was certain she could feel the rapid beating of his heart. It could have been hers too, she wasn't sure. It didn't matter.

She gasped as he wrapped an arm around her hips and closed the remaining gap between them.

"Thank you, Laurel," he whispered, the words sincere and heartfelt.

Her cheeks flooded with colour and her hands clung to his shoulders to keep her upright. Slowly, by torturous degrees, he lowered his lips to hers, giving her a searing kiss that made her toes curl inside her heels. She hung on for dear life as he lifted her completely off the floor, his arms like two steel traps around her. His mouth was hot and greedy, plunging his tongue into hers, demanding her complete surrender.

She gave as good as she got, angling her mouth slightly to the side to give him better access. Her arms circled around his neck, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, bringing them even closer.

Laurel could barely think as he adjusted his hold on her to compensate for their new position, sliding his hands around her hips and over her buttocks. Before she knew what was happening, he had her pinned against the wall, his mouth warm and wet against her throat. She couldn't breath, but she didn't care. She was feeling things she'd never felt before and she never wanted it to end.

She grasped the end of his vest, tugging it up impatiently. At the same time, he pulled her shirt apart to reveal the lacy white bra beneath. His mouth descended into the valley between her breasts and she moaned loudly. Her brain shut down and all she could do was feel.

Through the fog of delectable sensation, she heard a knock at the door. There must have been a few because suddenly it became more insistent, Diggle's voice booming from the other side.

"Laurel? Are you in there?"

Slade slumped against her, raising his passion filled eyes to meet hers. He gave her a crooked smile and her heart melted.

"Saved by the knock," he said huskily.

"I-I'm coming!" she called, her voice unsteady as she reluctantly stepped away from him and furiously started re-buttoning her shirt.

God help her, but she was heart and soul, head over heels, utterly and completely in love with Slade Wilson.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: And so my fic went from a T rating to M. **

**Reason: This is my first story that's crossed that boundary. My reasoning was fairly simple - it felt, to me, like a realistic possibility. I could see Laurel and Slade in that situation where I couldn't see Oliver and Felicity or Tommy and Thea there prior to an already established relationship.**

**I then toyed with how much detail is too much detail and in the end I decided not to fret about it. I just wrote scene and thought, "why not?" I don't know if anyone would be offended by it or think it inappropriate? Well, I guess it's a liberty I'm entitled to take since I'm the author. :P**

**Anyway, thank you to everyone for their continued support. I had no idea so many readers would be interested in such a pure invention. So again, my sincere gratitude for the reviews, PMs, etc.**

**LadyG**

**P.S - Sorry for the delay in posting the latest chapter. Life's been a little hectic, but I hope to finish the story this weekend. *fingers crossed!***

* * *

Laurel took a steadying breath before she opened the door to allow Diggle in. Pasting a smile on her face, she ushered him into the hallway.

"Hey! I didn't know you were coming over."

He looked at her appearance with narrowed eyes. She could only imagine what she looked like – hair tousled, lips swollen and clothes full of wrinkles. In a nutshell, she looked like a woman who'd been thoroughly ravaged.

Next, he glanced at Slade who was leaning casually against the wall, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Laurel couldn't help the surge of emotion she felt as she looked at him. She loved him. Maybe she'd loved him from the moment they'd met; she just hadn't known it yet. All she knew was that the feelings she had for him was nothing like anything she'd ever felt before. It wasn't like the angst filled infatuation she'd felt for Oliver or the sense of companionship and comfort she'd felt for Tommy. What she felt for Slade was tumultuous and passionate and all-consuming. It was also the best thing that had ever happened to her. _He_ was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

"Well now," Diggle said, trying hard to keep a smile off his face. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything?"

"No-"

"Yes-"

Laurel was mortified by Slade's response and she could feel her cheeks burning as Diggle guffawed loudly.

"My sincere apologies," he said, his eyes twinkling. "But I come bearing good news."

Laurel showed him into the lounge and offered him a drink, which he refused.

"What's going on?" Slade asked as they settled comfortably.

"If you have to ask that, then I guess you haven't seen the afternoon news. Guess you had err…better things to do," he quipped in amusement. "Here I thought you were celebrating."

Laurel swept her hair back, off her cheeks and forehead. _Is it just me or is it hot in here?_

"You said you had news?" she prompted, hoping to change the subject.

Diggle looked at Slade attentively. "Dude, you're about to be cleared."

Slade jumped up. "What?!" The look on his face was a mixture of disbelief and aching hope. Laurel felt her heart lurch.

"Johnston, along with a taped confession was delivered into police custody earlier this morning. It's all over the news."

Laurel grabbed the remote and switched on the TV. On screen, there were images of a tall, thin man with sandy blonde hair being escorted into the SCPD by a bunch of cops.

"Today?" she frowned, confused. "How did all of this happen?"

Slade moved forward and listened to the broadcaster. "-been high on law enforcement agencies list of wanted men over the past few weeks since he escaped from a secure Secret Service facility. Suspected of treason, Wilson is on the brink of being cleared based on the testimony of Alex Johnston, the man who'd actually masterminded his incarceration. Not much has been made public about the nature of the crimes since they've been deemed as classified, but the Australian government has come out strongly against the injustice done to an innocent man. Wilson has still not resurfaced and authorities are hoping that he will now come forward. Yet another injustice righted by the Starling City vigilante-"

"The what?" Slade asked, confounded.

Still shocked by the news, Laurel explained, "A couple of years ago, this guy appeared out of nowhere and started fighting crime in the City. He brought down some really powerful people and still continues to fight on behalf of the less fortunate. Especially in the Glades."

Diggle continued. "I think he must have been following your story and went after the guy himself."

"You know what this means, right?" she asked, a jubilant smile on her face.

Slade nodded slowly and she could read the residual disbelief on his face. "It's over?" he asked hopefully.

Diggle nodded. "It's over, man. All you need to do now is present yourself to the police, they'll verify all the facts and you'll walk out of there a free man."

"Will they let me go immediately?" Slade asked her.

That was the part Laurel didn't want to tell him. "I suspect they will take you into custody." When he vehemently shook his head, she clarified, "The fact that they have the police chief on record proclaiming your innocence means that it's a fact Slade, not a debate. But they will most likely hold you for a day or two to verify a few things."

She watched him wrestle with himself. "I can't be locked up again," he said quietly.

"Laurel will make sure it's for the shortest duration possible, right?" Diggle asked her.

She nodded. "It will be. It's more procedural than anything else." At the caged look in his eyes, she whispered, "Trust me."

He inclined his head and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"So who is this guy who got Johnston to confess?"

"He's our local saviour. He catches the bad guys so we can all sleep better at night," Diggle replied.

Slade stared at him incredulously. "You're telling me there's some kind of wannabe superhero around here who solves cases on behalf of the police?"

"Actually, he's better than the police. His methods are somewhat questionable but he gets the job done," Laurel said.

Slade glared at her. "You actually like and support this renegade?" he demanded.

"You're calling the man who just _saved_ _your ass a renegade_?" she asked, completely taken aback by his irritation. She stood and faced him.

"Guys," Diggle interjected, getting up too. Neither one listened to him.

Slade ignored her statement. "You didn't answer my question," he replied, his voice dangerously low.

Laurel rolled her eyes at him, her temper flaring. "I think The Hood has done a lot of good, so yes, I do support his cause."

"You like him, don't you?" he accused, moving closer to her.

"What?!" she exclaimed, completely confused by his behaviour. "You're being ridiculous!"

"Guys!" Diggle called, stepping between them. Then he shook his head and turned around. "You know what, I'm too old to babysit. Come round to Oliver's place when you two have sorted out all your issues."

On that note, he walked out, closing the door behind him.

"Now see what you've done?" Laurel accused.

* * *

Slade couldn't care about Diggle. He wanted to know who the man was who seemed to have earned Laurel's respect and admiration.

"Have you ever met this_ Hood_ person?" he demanded.

"A few times."

He felt his blood pressure rising. "Did he touch you?"

Laurel stared at him incredulously. "What?! That's insane!"

"Answer the question!"

"No!" She glared at him. "Wait a minute. Are you _jealous_?"

"Of course not!" He refused to answer that question truthfully, despite the fact that the thought of another man touching her the way he just had made him want to break something.

She still looked at him suspiciously. "Good. Because I don't know who he is. Admittedly, I was curious when he first surfaced, but like many other things, he's now a part of the Starling City landscape. A lot of the mystery has died down."

He felt a little too relieved for his own liking. "So when did all of this start?" he asked curiously.

"Three, no four years ago." Laurel said, walking into the kitchen and putting the kettle on. "Can you believe my Dad thought that the vigilante was Oliver?" She laughed.

Slade froze. "Why would he think that?"

She shrugged. "Because he hated Oliver after what happened to Sarah and because Oliver wasn't back for long before the vigilante appeared."

"How does he go about extracting this supposed justice?" he asked casually, his mind doing calculations.

"Oh, he's quite adept with a bow and arrow," she replied while pouring some boiling water into mugs.

Slade's mind exploded. _Oliver?_ It all seemed a little too convenient. Oliver was a man at the peak of his physicality even though he had a sedentary job and lifestyle, his wife was a hacker, his bodyguard more of a confidant. Then there was the fact that Oliver was the best archer he'd ever met. Better even than Shado, who'd taught him. _Is it possible that he'd come back and decided to become a crime fighter?_

"Are you okay?" Laurel asked, concerned.

Slade smiled at her automatically. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Laurel obviously didn't know and if his suspicions about Oliver were true, then there was a reason she didn't.

"So, what now?" He noticed that she was looking everywhere but at him.

"I guess I get the _procedural_ part sorted out and then-"

"You go back home," she finished, softly.

He felt a pang in the vicinity of his heart at the desolate expression on her face. If he'd ever been in doubt about her having feelings for him, the look on her face confirmed it. _I'm no good for you_.

He walked up behind her and placed his hands on her hips, turning her around to face him. He gently pushed her bangs behind her ears and cupped her face in his hands.

"Yes, I go home," he confirmed. He could see her fighting against the involuntary wobble of her chin. "But that's not a certainty just yet. At least not in my mind. There's still some things that need to happen before then."

She nodded, disengaging herself and turning her back to him. "You must be looking forward to seeing Joe."

He knew she was deliberately creating space between them and he hated it, but he also knew that it was probably for the best. He was leaving and to pretend differently would only end up hurting her more.

"I am," he said, "although I don't know what I'll find when I get there." He didn't know what his son thought or knew about him.

She looked up at him and he saw the sincerity in her luminous eyes. "He will accept you, Slade. Just as you are."

He appreciated her words because it was his biggest fear – that his kid wouldn't want anything to do with him.

"Thank you for the photographs. I can never," he started and then hesitated. "What I mean to say is, I'm grateful to you for everything."

She turned and gave him a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"You're welcome."

He couldn't stop himself. He stepped up close to her and watched as her pupils dilated and her pulse beat rapidly at the base of her throat. He knew that getting so close to her was a bad idea, but for the moment he didn't care.

He leaned down, watching as her eyes drifted shut…

There was a knock at the door.

He cursed. "Christ! It's like a hotel in here!"

Laurel cleared her throat, her cheeks red, and moved around him, waiting for him to get out of sight.

"Felicity! Ollie," she exclaimed and Slade walked back into view.

"We heard the news and wanted to come over sooner, but we were stuck in a meeting at QC." Felicity explained.

Oliver smiled at him and walked over, extending his hand. The two friends embraced one another and held on a second longer than most men would. Slade had a lot to be thankful for and his friendship with Oliver was one of them.

"Thanks for _all_ your help, mate."

Oliver looked at him curiously. "I didn't really do anything in the end."

Slade looked at him intently and whispered, out of earshot of the women. "Bows and arrows, a disguise? I should have known," he said, testing the water.

The scant second that it took Oliver to recover from the surprise that flickered in the depths of his blue eyes was enough to give Slade the answer he needed. Anyone else would have missed it, but he didn't.

Oliver laughed. "You think that was me? Funny. You're funny."

Slade didn't say anything more. If Oliver didn't want him to know, he'd respect that. He also understood why. Living a double life wasn't easy and the less people knew about it, the better - the less chance there was of anyone else getting hurt as well. He reckoned that was why Oliver had never told Laurel. He didn't want her to get hurt. That was the best reason Slade could think of to keep his friend's secret.

"Did you manage to find out how The Hood got Johnston's confession?" Laurel asked.

Felicity, who'd already made herself comfortable on the couch, piped up. "Not really. Since we can't exactly interview him, it's all speculation. But I think I've found out why Slade was framed though."

He glanced at Oliver's wife. "Why?"

"After some rigorous digging, I discovered that Alex and Bill were step brothers. Different fathers, same mother. I suspect they found out about one another in the army." Slade sank down into the nearest seat, which happened to be beside Laurel. "To cut a long story short, Bill must have told Alex about his relationship with Fyers – which makes me believe they were both on his payroll. Chances are, there are some more dirty agents. That's the only thing that would explain his presence in the States soon after you escaped. Anyway, that makes me think that they were planning on framing you all along. Everything was put in place. The one thing they probably weren't counting on was you killing Bill before he could kill you. It's the only logical explanation. Once Bill was dead, Alex let you take the wrap and his brother came home a hero. Alex also came into some major cash as a result of it."

Slade sat still, completely staggered. He couldn't believe the lengths they'd gone to to ensure that he went down instead of Bill.

"Will we ever know what really happened?" he asked.

Oliver shrugged. "It's up to Johnston. He could give up the names of his accomplices in order to gain a shorter sentence. But I doubt he'll do it. Military men are trained to go down with their sinking ship. Chances are you may never have all the pieces to the puzzle."

Slade didn't think he cared anymore. All he wanted was his freedom. If it meant that he'd never truly know why they chose him, he could live with that. So much of his life had been wasted suffering the consequences of actions beyond his control. He wouldn't live the rest of his life trying to chase shadows.

He already knew that he'd turn himself in the following day and hopefully the wheels of justice would turn a lot faster this time round. In all likelihood he'd be back home in a few days. Back with Joe. Glancing at the woman sitting beside him, he couldn't stop the sinking feeling he got in the pit of his stomach at the thought of never seeing her again.

* * *

It was late when Laurel eventually climbed into bed. Oliver and Felicity had stayed for a while before leaving. Afterward, she'd had plenty of calls from her assistant and had spent the latter part of the afternoon and early part of the evening catching up on work. A thing she'd actually been grateful for. It had kept her mind off the inevitable.

Slade was leaving.

Every time she thought about it, she felt like crying - throwing herself across her bed and sobbing her heart out like an overly dramatic teen. But she knew she couldn't do that. At least not yet.

For the first time in her life she was so in love with someone she could barely think straight and he just happened to be the most unattainable man on the planet. _I sure know how to pick them._

Because she hadn't wanted to talk about the logistics of his departure, she'd used her work as an excuse and had delved right in. Slade, thinking he was in the way, had gone into his room and only came out to take a shower and grab something to eat. She suspected that he went through some rigorous exercises before bedtime.

Glancing at the time, she realised it was just before 2am. She'd been lying there for more than an hour, her mind racing, her heart breaking. Sleep was not something she felt capable of at that moment.

She was happy for him. Soon he'd have his freedom back and he'd be able to make a life for himself again, with his child. That's all she'd ever want for him – his own happiness. She was just a little sad for herself.

She thought of their passionate encounter before Diggle had arrived and wondered if she would have had the courage to put a stop to it if the other man hadn't arrived. Remembering the way it had felt to be held in his arms, she didn't think so. She'd have let him have her, against that wall, because there'd been nothing she'd wanted more.

Punching her pillow, she turned onto her side and closed her eyes only to have them pop open again almost immediately. She could hear moaning coming from Slade's room.

Knowing how much he'd hated her intrusion the last time he'd had a nightmare, she walked across the hallway to his bedroom door without hesitation. Even if he was angry afterward, she couldn't attempt to sleep when he was clearly in pain.

Opening his door quietly, she made her way to the side of his bed. He was tossing again, but he wasn't sweating as he had the last time. She took that as a good sign.

He was mumbling in his sleep, only this time she couldn't really make out what he was saying. The furrowed lines of his brow and the way his face twisted, as though he was in pain, made her want to comfort him.

Shaking him, she called his name once. Twice. Thrice. On the third attempt, he opened his eyes and looked at her. He was a little disoriented, she could tell, so she grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"It's me. You were having another bad dream," she said into the stillness.

When he didn't reply, she assumed he wanted her to leave.

"I'll go." She attempted to tug her hand free, except he wouldn't let go.

Surprised, she looked at him. In the darkness she couldn't see his eyes.

"Don't go," he whispered.

She swallowed. "Slade-"

"Please."

The plea in his voice was her complete undoing. Lifting up the corner of his duvet, she climbed in beside him, not realising how cold she was until her sleep shorts and vest came into contact with his body. He felt as raging hot as a furnace. The only problem was, she desperately wanted to get burnt.

As she settled against him, he twisted slightly so that she was on her back and he was towering over her. Mesmerised by the sheer beauty of his features, her hand lifted to trace the outline of his brows and his eyes fell closed for a moment. When her fingers descended and moved down his neck, resting in the hollow of his throat, they opened again, desire blazing back at her.

Laurel knew he was giving her an opportunity to back out, to decide for herself if she really wanted to stay with him – and if she did, what was _going_ to happen.

She loved him and she might never see him again beyond the next few days. If these were the last moments they shared with one another, she wanted to make them count.

Decision made, she weaved her hands through his hair and drew his lips down to meet hers in an open mouthed kiss that stole her breath away. He wasn't gentle, but then again, she was tired of gentle. She wanted whatever he was willing to give and she vowed to meet him halfway.

She gasped as his mouth seized control of the kiss, nipping at her lips before he dove back in, drinking from her mouth as though he was a thirsty man. Her hands wound around his neck, bringing his warm, hard chest in contact with hers, the only barrier between them her flimsy vest.

Reading her mind he reached down and tugged her flimsy tee up and over her head, their lips separating for the briefest time before their mouths joined again, tongues duelling fervently. His chest met hers and both of them moaned out loud. She couldn't believe how good it felt to have her naked skin against his, the softness of her curves yielding to the hard planes of his chest.

One of his hands tangled in her hair to hold her still as he continued to torture her with drugging kisses, while his other moved again, trailing down her side to cup her breast. Sighing at his touch, her heart slammed against her chest so hard it was almost painful. His palm was rough and calloused, the friction it caused heightening her pleasure to bursting point.

Just when she thought she couldn't take anymore, his mouth left hers and tracked a warm, wet path down her neck and across her breast, seeking its ultimate destination greedily. She trembled uncontrollably, unable to stop the low moan that escaped as he placed the warm cavern of his mouth over her turgid nipple.

"Slade-" she whispered, unable to handle the intensity of the sensations that were coursing through her body.

He ignored her plea, as his mouth moved on to lavish her other breast with equal attention. Gasping for breath, she buried her hands in his hair, holding him to her, wanting him to continue as much as she wanted the sweet torture to end.

She shivered as she felt his hand on her hips, divesting her of her shorts and undergarments in one fell swoop, before he did the same for himself. Finally completely naked beneath him, she marvelled at how perfectly they fit together, as thought they'd been designed specifically for that very purpose.

In the darkness of the room, breaths mingled and bodies moved, completely in sync with one another. Simultaneously hands explored and mouths tasted, each one unable to get enough of the other. It was a long time before either of them were sated enough to drift off to sleep and even then, their sweat slicked bodies curled up together, wanting to remain close.

Laurel knew that come morning, she'd probably be bruised all over, but she didn't care.

She was in love and no matter what, the man whose arms were tightly wrapped around her had given her beautiful memories she would treasure for the rest of her life.


	10. Chapter 10

Slade was the first one to stir. The room was still dark, but based on the sounds of life outside, he knew it wasn't early morning. He felt snug and contented, something he hadn't felt in years. Honestly, he couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a peaceful night's sleep – probably some time before he'd been sent to Lian Yu. After Laurel had woken him, he'd had no more nightmares. In fact, he hadn't any idea what his previous one had even been about. That had never happened before. He always remembered.

Adjusting his head slightly, he was aware of the warm body contained within the circle of his arms. _Laurel._ Opening his eyes, he could see over the top of her head. His arm was curled around her, resting on her flat stomach. Her hand was covering his, their fingers linked. His body was bowed around hers, her back pressed into his chest, their legs a tangled mess. He couldn't remember anything ever feeling more right than waking up with her in his arms.

The previous night, and early hours of the morning, had been incredible. He'd never known such pleasurable heights existed, or that a woman could be so attuned to his needs and wants, that he could so easily conform to hers. They'd woken up earlier when Laurel's phone had rang. It had been her assistant wondering where she was since she hadn't arrived at work. Having literally just woken up had made her argument that she was feeling ill all the more believable. Thereafter, she'd climbed right back into bed and made love with him again before both of them had fallen into an exhausted slumber.

She moved and his arms tightened around her instinctively. Turning around, she faced him, a sleepy, contended smile on her face. His heart squeezed as he looked into her beautiful face.

"Morning," she mumbled, nuzzling her nose into his neck.

He grinned. "You snore, Miss Lance," came his teasing reply.

She pulled away and looked at him, horrified. "I do not!" Then realising that he was kidding, she swatted him across the arm and laughed. "How are you feeling?" He knew she was referring to his nightmare.

"Better. I don't remember what it was about," he responded truthfully.

She nodded, her hand gently caressing his chest. He liked having her touch him.

"Do you have them often?" There was some hesitation in her voice before she asked the question.

He'd never spoken to anyone about the demons that haunted his dreams mostly because there'd never been anyone to talk to. Coupled with that was his belief that no one would understand. He was surprised by how much he wanted to tell _her_.

He pulled her closer to him and tucked her head into the crook of his neck, playing with the silky stands of her hair. "Almost every night."

He took a deep breath.

"They started once I was captured and smuggled off the island. Fyers had done a good job in the torture department and no matter how I tried, I couldn't stop the dreams. Sometimes I'd try to stay awake for as long as I could to avoid them before I realised that sleep deprivation only made them worse."

He felt her hand move across his chest to hold him close and he absorbed all the comfort her touch provided.

"They're mostly the same with a few variances here and there. A dark room, whips and chains. Sometimes they feel so real I wake up crying out, as you've already discovered." He kept his voice even despite the fact that talking about it made him want to heave. It wasn't easy.

"There were days when they'd leave me alone without food or water in a completely dark space. It was times like those that I imagined I was going mad. Then just before I'd succumb to that downward mental spiral, they'd bring me back up top and the beatings would resume."

He felt her tears as they dripped into his neck, but she didn't say anything. He was glad for it. In the face of any questions, he didn't know if he'd be able to continue.

"Then I managed to escape with the help of the man I'd been sent there to retrieve. It was a few weeks later that I met Oliver."

Her arms were holding him so tightly, he could barely move. But he didn't mind the feeling. In fact, he welcomed it.

"After being taken prisoner by the ASIS a new wave of intimidation started. They weren't as cruel as Fyers, but at that point it didn't matter anymore. I'd become so used to the neglect and the abuse. I barely noticed when they ceased for a day or two."

She moved then and raised herself onto an elbow to look at him. Her beautiful green eyes were pools of pain. There were also tears clinging to her long lashes.

"I'm so sorry. I wish each of those men burn in hell for what they did to you."

He lifted a hand and wiped a tear from her cheek. "It messed me up, Laurel. I'm-" he struggled to say the words to her. "I'm damaged. I'm broken and I don't think there's any way to put me back together."

He watched as her eyes hardened, anger blazing out of them. "You may be battered and bruised, but they didn't break you, Slade. You're the bravest man I've ever known and you've endured more pain than I can even begin to comprehend. But that makes you strong." Her voice broke. "_You're so strong_. I'm in awe of you. And the fact that you're here – alive and a little ruff around the edges – is a testament to your incredible will to survive." She cupped his jaw in her hand. "I've seen you at your worst," she smiled slightly as she said it, "and I've seen you at your best. You're not broken to me. You've never been anything but heroic and fearless and courageous and anyone who says or thinks differently, including you, will have to answer to me."

He felt humbled by her belief in him. No one had ever called him a hero. He'd certainly never thought of himself as one.

"Laurel, the things I've-"

She placed a finger over his lips to silence him. "I'm not naïve. I don't believe that you haven't done some things that are pretty extreme. But I don't believe you're a cruel man and I don't believe you're a cold blooded mercenary either. _Nothing_ you say will _ever_ change my mind about that."

He believed her. Past experiences had made him wary of strangers and he didn't trust easily. But he trusted her. Looking into her face, so defiant, he knew her to be sincere.

Reaching for her he kissed her. He could taste the salt of her tears on his lips, but he didn't care. She made him feel things that he was afraid of. She made him want things that he had no right wanting - not in the position he was currently in - and certainly not with the paternal responsibilities that waited for him back home.

The kiss was scorching, intense and emotionally charged. Exactly like it had always been between them.

"Thank you," he whispered when he eventually lifted his lips from hers.

She smiled at him, her face flushed with desire. It would be so easy for him to kiss her again, to pretend that they were the only two people in the world. However, he knew that it was time to face reality once more. He needed to hand himself over to the police and do whatever came afterward to ensure his freedom.

He felt torn. He couldn't deny it. Before he'd come to Starling City, before meeting Laurel, his life had been simple. He would clear his name and get back to Australia to see Joe. Now his heart wouldn't allow him to pretend that things were still that uncomplicated. They weren't. He cared about the woman in his arms – he cared for her more than he'd ever cared for any other female. But there was no future for them.

She must have also realised that the cocoon they'd spent the night in had disintegrated because she sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest as she looked around for her discarded clothing. She looked dishevelled, her body flushed, her lips swollen.

_Christ, she's so beautiful._

Getting up as well, he grabbed his pants and shoved his legs into them before standing up. He wasn't even aware that she was behind him until he felt her hands on his back. He froze in place. Her fingers were gentle as they explored the puckered lines that zig zagged across his skin.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked softly before leaning down to press her lips gently to his scared flesh.

He shook his head, unable to speak past the lump that was lodged in the back of his throat. He could feel the softness of her cheek as it rested against him. He'd told her many times that he didn't want her kindness, but in truth, it was that constant barrage of gentleness that was at that very moment healing him from the inside out.

Lifting her cheek she placed one last kiss between his shoulder blades.

Her mouth close to his ear, she breathed, "You're the most virile, sexy and robust man I've ever known. _You're beautiful_. What they did to you will never change that. You are not defined by the abuse you've suffered, Slade. Be proud of who you are and what you've endured. I am."

She then turned around and collected her scattered clothing before leaving the room. Unknown to her, tears were shimmering in his eyes as the door closed softly behind her.

* * *

Later that morning, when Laurel and Slade arrived at Oliver and Felicity's home, she immediately recognised the red Evoque parked in the driveway. Tommy and Thea were back from their honeymoon.

She realised that the pang of loneliness she'd always felt at the thought of her ex boyfriend and his new wife was gone. Instead, there was only the genuine affection she felt for both of them.

About to ask Slade to stay behind while she checked if the coast was clear, she was spared the trouble when Oliver emerged from the front door and waved at them to come inside.

After she'd left Slade's bedroom she'd resolved to keep her emotions in check. After last night, she knew she was more in love with him than ever. But she wouldn't use her feelings as a means of making him feel guilty. He'd been used enough and he had a duty to his son that superseded any connection between them. It was hard, but she'd accepted it. No matter how difficult it would be to say goodbye to him, she would do so, without ever letting him know how her heart would break to watch him walk away from her.

Entering the big house, Laurel smiled as she heard Thea's boisterous voice.

"You're telling me that _the_ Slade is alive and well? Wow. See what happens when you go on honeymoon? People rise from the dead."

Amused, Laurel walked into the kitchen. Slade was trailing behind her cautiously.

"Laurel!" Thea exclaimed and jumped off her chair at the table. She rushed forward and gave her a warm hug. The younger woman looked radiant in a deep green long sleeved knit dress that ended just above her knees. Her legs were encased in black tights that disappeared into knee length black boots.

Tommy, leaning against the table watched them with a fond smile on his face. Their eyes met over his wife's head and Laurel hoped he knew how genuinely thrilled she was for both of them.

Thea pulled back and glanced over Laurel's shoulder. "Good Lord. Are all my brother's friends this gorgeous?" she asked with a frankness that was unique to her. Laurel was glad to know that she wasn't the only one who'd noticed.

Slade looked at her with a raised eyebrow, clearly not sure how to respond.

"Hey!" Tommy replied jokingly as he moved forward to kiss Laurel's cheek before wrapping his arm around Thea's waist. "I'd prefer it if those descriptions were reserved only for me," he teased.

She rolled her eyes at him, but Laurel could tell that they were deeply in love. She couldn't help the stab of envy.

"Get over yourself, Merlyn," Thea said as she instinctively moved closer to her husband's side.

"You must be the infamous Slade Wilson," Tommy smiled as he held out a hand to the man at Laurel's side.

Slade shook his hand, eyeing the couple suspiciously. Laurel could only imagine what he was thinking. Thea was a bundle of energy and like Felicity, she never stopped talking. Tommy on the other hand was generally easy going and friendly.

"One and the same. You're Oliver's best mate."

Tommy grinned. "That's me. The honorary Queen. Glad to know you're alive and well. Also glad to hear that you've been acquitted," he said genuinely.

Slade cracked a smile. "Almost, but not quite."

"I see you've all met," came Oliver's voice from behind her. He was carrying Robbie who looked cute as a button in a fleecy blue sailor suit.

Laurel couldn't help herself. She plucked the baby out of Oliver's arms. He smelled like shampoo and powder; a sweet combination. Holding him in her arms, his toothy grin directed at her, she couldn't stop the overwhelming desire to have a baby of her own. She'd always known she'd wanted children at some point, but since she hadn't met a man she'd considered having kids with, it had never been an immediate thought. However, since meeting Slade, a lot had changed. It wasn't hard for her to imagine having a little brown-eyed, dark- haired bundle of her own.

As soon as she thought it, a sense of sadness descended upon her. He was leaving.

Felicity stepped into the room. "Oh you're all in here." She moved toward the coffee machine and pulled mugs out of an overhead cupboard.

Laurel turned slightly and noticed Slade looking at her with a strange light in his eyes. Not knowing what it meant, she took a seat at the table and played with the baby. He sat down beside her and Thea and Tommy grabbed the seats opposite them. Felicity and Oliver sat at each head.

"How was your trip?" Laurel asked Thea.

The honeymooners looked relaxed and happy. "Amazing! I wish we could have stayed a while longer, but unfortunately duty called." She pulled a face.

"My head of security at Merlyn Global resigned last week. It's going to be killer trying to replace him. I'm already having nightmares about it." Tommy looked at Oliver. "You don't know anyone, do you?" he asked hopefully.

Oliver shook his head and then looked at Slade. "He'd be my recommendation, but he'll be outta here in a few days."

Laurel's breath hitched at the back of her throat. If only it were that simple. Slade working for Merlyn Global, in his field of expertise, would be perfect. But she knew it wasn't viable.

Tommy looked at Slade and slapped his hand on the table. "Why didn't I think of that? It's brilliant! You'd be a natural!"

"Unfortunately not. I'm headed back to Oz, mate."

Tommy sighed with disappointment.

"Guess this means you'll have to start looking from scratch," Thea said sympathetically, patting his hand.

"Seriously though, if you ever decide to settle over here, give me a call. I could use someone with your skill and proficiency," he continued, not completely put off.

"Thanks," she heard Slade reply. She knew he was merely being polite. There was no way he could stay in the States. He didn't even want to, regardless of Joe.

"You ready to head to the SCPD?" Felicity asked him.

He took a sip of his coffee. "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose. There is no escaping this final step."

"Is everything in place?" Oliver asked, his question directed at Laurel.

She nodded. "I got Slade to sign the papers that legally engages my services as his attorney. I'll be going with him."

"We'll go too," said Felicity. Laurel didn't miss the look of adoration that Oliver cast his wife's way. "Slade is family."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Slade replied.

"Why not?" asked Oliver, frowning.

"Slade's right. It isn't. If you show up there with us, you're basically admitting that you knew he was here all the time." Felicity started to protest, but Laurel held up a hand. The baby was knocking a teaspoon against the table. "Think about your family. Believe me, you don't want to get caught up in the media frenzy that's bound to explode the second the press knows that Slade's turned himself in."

"I don't care about that!" declared Oliver.

"I think Laurel is right," said Tommy. "The last thing you want are journalists camped outside your front gate. Think of Robbie."

Laurel could see that Oliver and Felicity were considering his words.

"What if you went afterward?" asked Thea. All eyes turned in her direction. "If you show up at the precinct after Slade has already been taken into custody, it may just look like an old friend coming to show his support."

Tommy smiled at his wife. "You're a genius. That could totally work."

She grinned back at him. "Flattery will get you everywhere," she quipped before giving him a swift peck on the lips.

Oliver looked at Slade. "You comfortable with that?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I think that would be a better solution. You could still maintain that you didn't know I was around."

"People may not believe that," said Felicity, pushing her spectacles up, her purple nails flashing.

Slade shrugged. "But we'll stick to that story. I don't want you guys implicated in any of this. Are we agreed?"

Oliver didn't look too happy about it, but he nodded. "Alright. We do it your way."

Slade focussed his gaze on Laurel. She was too distracted by Robbie to see how his face softened when he looked at her.

"Let's get this over with."

She nodded and kissed the baby's chubby cheek before handing him over to his mother. She'd drive him over to the police department and assume the role of his legal counsel. She didn't think it likely that they'd keep him for very long, but if anything untoward happened, she'd make damn sure that absolutely no harm came to him. He'd been through more than enough. They'd have to get through her in order to get to him.

Little did they know, she wasn't a cops daughter for nothing.

* * *

Slade sat quietly beside Laurel as she parked on the side of the SCPD building. Turning off the engine, she twisted slightly to face him.

"You ready?"

He looked at her and nodded, admiring the way the weak rays of sunshine made the blonde highlights in her hair glow. She was dressed formally in a tailored black suit that made her look every inch the competent lawyer.

Since leaving the Queen house she'd been all professionalism. There had been no personal references and no mention of the intimacy that had passed between them. He should have been grateful, but instead he hated the walls that were now firmly separating them.

He didn't know why he was so hesitant to go inside. He didn't fear what would happen once they stepped into the police station. He trusted Laurel to act on his behalf. He reckoned it was because he knew that once they climbed out of her car, nothing would ever be the same again. The night they'd spent together would be a memory that he would only be able revisit in his dreams - if he was lucky enough - because it would surely never happen again. The sequence of events that they would set in motion once his presence was known would create a distance between them that was probably for the best, but that didn't mean he wouldn't miss the closeness that they'd shared. It was ironic. He'd always thought he never wanted to share that kind of familiarity and affection with anyone and yet all he could do was think about how he was about to lose it.

"Then let's get going," she said as she reached for her bag on the back seat.

He reached for her arm to stall her. "Wait."

She lifted her eyes to meet his and at last he could see her eyes. She wasn't indifferent at all.

"I wanted to tell you-"

She reached across the space between them and captured his hand in hers.

"I know, Slade. You don't have to say anything."

He raised her hand and held it against his cheek, her warmth the only thing that gave him any measure of comfort. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, so many things he wanted to explain. But he knew he couldn't. It wouldn't make any difference.

"About last night..."

She shook her head and he knew this was the worst possible timing, but he needed her to know at least one thing.

"Laurel," he said softly. She looked at him, her eyes liquid emotion. "I have no regrets. I want you to know that."

Her fingers gently brushed against his jaw. "Neither do I."

On that note, she opened the door and climbed out.

With a heavy heart, he followed.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: We are reaching the end of Laurel and Slade's story. The next chapter will be the penultimate one, followed by the epilogue. :) Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read it.**

**LadyG**

* * *

For Laurel, the next two days passed in a blur. Slade had spent the first night in the holding cell at the police department and so she'd had to juggle her time between him, her work and placating her father. He'd finally heard the news that the "foreigner" had been caught and that his daughter was defending him. Suffice it to say, Laurel expected him home at any moment.

She and Slade hadn't had much time alone and the little they had was spent going over legal processes and strategies to handle the media. They were relentless in their hounding, wanting to know how she knew Slade, when they'd met and what made her decide to take his case. The circus that had ensued had been the worst bit for her.

The only relief she got was when any of the Queen's or Merlyn's were around. Thankfully they were far more interesting to the press than she was and she suspected they knew it. That was probably why Oliver and Tommy had gone out of their way to engage with the journalists camped outside the police station. That way, she was able to get in and out without too much unwanted attention.

Her emotions though were completely ragged. She knew that every minute that passed brought Slade's moment of departure ever closer. Already the Australian government had made contact, insisting that they would cover all the financial costs of getting Slade back home. Seeing as all the charges against him had been dropped and he was scheduled for release later that day, his ticket had already been booked for the following morning. It was an early flight and she suspected that everyone would make the journey to the airport to see him off.

Laurel was sitting at her desk at CNRI. It was the Boss's birthday and he'd invited everyone out for drinks, which meant that the office had closed early. For obvious reasons she'd declined and sat by herself as she watched the clock wind down before she left to fetch Slade.

Staring at the pile of paper before her, she felt her vision begin to swim, the hold she had on her feelings were tentative at best.

"Knock knock," came a feminine voice from the door.

Laurel glanced up to see Felicity, covered in a black coat, approaching her slowly.

"Hey," she said, blinking rapidly while closing the file she hadn't even been looking at.

Felicity removed her coat to reveal a black and navy print dress over black leggings and ankle boots. She pulled up a chair and sat down beside Laurel.

"I thought I'd pop in to see how you're holding up."

Laurel gave her a small smile. Felicity was always so thoughtful.

"I'm okay," she said, her voice much more cheerful than she actually felt.

Felicity raised an eyebrow. "Is that why you look like you're about to cry?" she asked softly.

Laurel slumped forward in her chair, her hands covering her face as she lost the tenuous grip she had on her self control. Feeling Felicity's hand on her shoulder was her undoing and the tears she'd been holding back for days came flooding to the fore.

A sob escaped as the other woman pulled her unresisting body into her arms and held her close. She didn't know how long they sat like that, or for how long she cried. All she knew was that once she started, she couldn't stop. Her heart was breaking and the last time she checked, there was no cure for that. Felicity just held her, gently running a hand over her head, whispering soft words of comfort.

Eventually, her sobs subsided and she pulled back. The quirky blonde was looking at her sympathetically and Laurel couldn't help feeling a little embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know that was going to happen," she said self-consciously, running her hands unnecessarily down the front of her white shirt.

Felicity laid a hand on her knee. "It's okay. You have nothing to feel embarrassed about."

Touched by her sincerity, Laurel gave her a watery smile.

"These past few days have been like a rollercoaster. I didn't expect it to be," she said, accepting the tissue Felicity offered her.

"It's understandable. You," she hesitated slightly, "you care about Slade a lot more than a mere client, don't you?"

Laurel knew it was pointless to deny it. "I would never have guessed that I would. Not after our disastrous first meeting. He was rude and crass and unapproachable." She laughed softly. "Then things between us changed and I got to know a different side to him. A side that was gentle and funny and surprisingly sensitive."

Felicity grinned. "No woman in her right mind could resist that."

Laurel laughed back. "I was fighting a losing battle."

"Do you know how he feels?"

She shook her head. "Not at all. I mean, I know he cares, but it doesn't even matter, does it? Long distance relationships are doomed and I want more than the occasional phone call. I deserve more."

Felicity nodded. "Absolutely. But that doesn't make it hurt less."

Laurel exhaled slowly. "No, it doesn't. Especially since we-"

She stopped, blushing. Felicity's eyes widened. "You didn't!" she breathed.

Laurel couldn't believe they were having that discussion. "We did."

When Felicity squealed in her seat, her hands making prompting gestures, Laurel continued, "I wouldn't know how to describe it, Felicity…"

"Try!" The blonde woman exclaimed impatiently.

Laurel grinned. "It was … passionate, powerful, consuming. I've _never_ felt that way before."

"Oh Laurel," Felicity said, understanding completely.

She closed her eyes briefly. "After all that I have to let him go. Tomorrow I have to watch him board that flight while knowing with absolute certainty that I'll never see him again. How do I do that?"

"I wish I knew what to say. Your circumstances are so unique. There's Joe and his needs are rightfully Slade's main priority. I wouldn't be surprised if he puts his own life on hold to ensure his son's happiness."

Laurel understood that all too well. "Joe needs him and he needs his son. I just wish…" She shook her head. She couldn't have what she wanted.

"You wish there was a way he could stay?"

"I know it's stupid."

"It's not," Felicity declared. "It's perfectly reasonable for you to feel that way."

"I bet you never had all this drama with Oliver."

Felicity laughed. "Believe me, I had my own fair share of challenges." She stood and Laurel followed her up. "Love is a strange and wonderful thing, Laurel. Very few people have it easy. If you and Slade are meant to be together, you'll both find a way to make it happen."

Laurel wished she could be that sure. "It would seem that the universe has other plans for us."

"Don't give up on him. Not if you believe there's something worth fighting for." Felicity touched her shoulder comfortingly.

Laurel swallowed her rising emotions. "Thanks for stopping by. I didn't know I needed a shoulder to cry on."

Felicity gave her a quick hug. "Whatever you need. Don't be shy."

Laurel waved the other woman off as she gathered her things. It was time to fetch Slade.

* * *

Slade sat opposite Oliver in the visitor's room at the police department. He was waiting for Laurel to arrive so he could sign the last few papers that would make his freedom official. He'd hated spending the last 24 hours behind bars, but at least he hadn't been treated badly. Not that he would have noticed anyway. He was too preoccupied with his pending departure – and the woman he'd be leaving behind.

"You're sure you're not going to stay for a few more days before you go?" Oliver asked.

Slade shook his head. "No, mate. I think it's best for everyone if I cut this visit short."

"Laurel?" Sometimes he forgot that Oliver probably knew him better than anyone.

"You know I'm not good with goodbyes."

Oliver looked at him pointedly. "I take it you haven't given any thought to what I said?"

Slade drummed his fingers on the table. "It's all I've been thinking about. I see no way around it. I have to go back. She can't go with me. That's all there is."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Have you asked her?"

He glared at his friend. "That's not an option."

"Since when?"

"_Christ_ Oliver! You don't honestly expect me to be that selfish?"

Oliver shrugged. "I don't see it as selfish. I see it as asking a question and letting Laurel make her own decision about how she chooses to respond."

Slade snorted in disgust. "Your brains are addled."

"Why are you being so stubborn?" Oliver asked, annoyed.

"I'm doing the right thing!" he retorted heatedly.

"For who?"

Slade ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "For both of us."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "You're honestly just going to leave without telling her how you feel?"

"Yes," he said resolutely.

"I think you're being a fool."

Slade felt his anger rising. "You don't understand-"

"Then explain it to me!" Oliver exclaimed, leaning closer to him.

He tried to remain calm. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning, at the crack of dawn! When I get home, I need to try and forge some kind of relationship with my son – who as you know I haven't seen in almost ten years!" His voice started rising despite his best efforts. "You think I want to rope someone else into that mess? You think she deserves that?"

Oliver sat back, contrite. "I'm sorry. I'm being really pushy. I know this can't be easy for you."

He calmed down. "It's not. But I know it's for the best."

Oliver lifted his hands up helplessly. "I don't agree with you. But it doesn't matter what I think. You've clearly made up your mind and I'll respect your decision."

Slade nodded, satisfied. "Good."

"Have you figured out how you're going to approach the situation with Joe?" His friend was looking at him with concern.

He felt the knot in his stomach tighten. "No. I tried calling the ex this morning but the number I found for her seems to be out of service. The photos that Laurel's friend took of him were at school. His guardian was listed as Elaine's mother. I don't know what that means yet."

"Want me to look into it for you?"

He knew that Oliver had the resources to find whatever information was out there.

"I'd hate to ask-"

"You didn't. I offered. Let me do this. I can have the info for you within a matter of hours."

Slade cast a grateful glance at his friend. Oliver had done more for him than he was likely to ever be able to repay.

"I'd appreciate it," he said.

Oliver nodded. "Consider it done." He stood and grabbed hold of his coat. "I'll give you a call later with any updates."

Slade acknowledged his statement and grabbed his arm. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

Oliver patted him on the shoulder. "There's too much history between us to ever keep score. Laurel should be on her way, so I'll see you in the morning."

He watched Oliver leave and was about to sit down again he saw Laurel approaching. She was dressed in a grey suit and white shirt, her heels clicking noisily on the tiled floor as she drew closer.

"I just saw Ollie leave."

He eyes feasted on her greedily. He didn't want to think about having to say goodbye to her.

"He said he'd call later."

She nodded and gestured toward the papers in her hand. "You're free to go. There are a few documents to sign out front and then we can be off."

He watched her, hating how she kept her distance, her eyes cast downward. "Are you alright?" he asked, stepping closer to her.

She automatically retreated. "Fine," she said softly, looking at the floor. "We should probably get going."

She looked at him briefly and gave him a taunt smile before turning on her heel and walking in the same direction she'd come from. Because he had no other choice, he followed.

* * *

They'd been home for a while when Oliver called. Laurel was too busy staying out of Slade's way that she didn't notice that anything was wrong until she heard a hand slam against the lounge table. Rushing inside she saw him pacing restlessly. Forgetting her resolve to stay away from him, she approached him, concerned.

"What's wrong?"

He looked at her and her heart squeezed tightly in her chest. He looked panicked. She touched his hand.

"Slade?"

"Elaine left Joe with her mother." She assumed Elaine was his ex. "She remarried four years ago and only sees him periodically."

Laurel felt a rush of anger. _What mother does that?_ "How do you know this?"

He sat down and she followed after him. "Oliver checked it out. All the photos you had taken of him was at school and at his grandmother's place."

She was astonished. Her contact had found Joe based on his name and age, as well as the area Slade had mentioned they stayed in. She'd just assumed that he lived with his mother.

"What are you going to do?"

His eyes flashed furiously. "Find out why the hell she abandoned him!" He looked restless. "I need to get back there."

Laurel could sense his desperation. It was written all over him. She didn't know what kind of father he was, but based on all she'd learnt about him recently, she'd bet he was a devoted one.

She thought about her own desire to have children. She wished that someday she found someone who would love their children as much as Slade clearly loved Joe. She tried to ignore the voice in the back of her mind that whispered that she'd never love anyone as much as she loved him.

"One more sleep, and you'll be on your way," she said softly.

He looked at her and gently touched her cheek. She could have cried at the look of tenderness on his face.

"You're probably looking forward to being rid of me," he teased lightly.

"Of course, I am," she lied.

They looked at one another for the longest time, as though both of them were trying to engrave the memory of the other onto their minds.

She knew he was going to kiss her. She watched his eyes darken as they stared fixedly at her lips. She wanted nothing more than to surrender to him another time, to let her feelings for him take over. But she knew the dangers of allowing that to happen. She knew how it would only prolong her suffering once he was gone. The memories she carried with her were already too bittersweet.

Tearing herself away, she stood. "I-I have some work to do. I'll see you in the morning."

Without looking back she practically ran to her room, missing the look of utter devastation that flashed across his face.

* * *

Slade couldn't sleep. The last time he'd had a decent night's rest was when he'd held Laurel in his arms. Hard as he tried, he couldn't drift off satisfactorily. He dozed for small stretches of time, but mostly he just lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if she felt as lonely as he did.

Turning onto his side, he closed his eyes, his body tense and unable to relax. Growling in frustration, he threw off the covers and sat up. It was 2am.

_Screw this!_

Walking toward the door, he opened it and stared across the hall. His feet bare on the wooden floor, he padded over to the entryway that separated him from her and listened. He heard a faint rustling coming from the other side.

_Is she awake too?_

Turning the knob silently, he pushed forward. His eyes adjusting to the dark, he spotted a lump in the centre of the bed.

The door creaked and she looked up.

"Slade?" she asked immediately. "Are you okay?"

"I can't sleep," he whispered, his voice a little gruff.

Her gaze locked with his: hers wide and confused, his filled with longing. She moved first, lifting the covers and holding it open for him. Relieved, he climbed in beside her, their bodies adjusting and piecing together effortlessly.

He held her in his arms, her head buried in the crook of his neck. Instantly he warmed up, his eyelids growing heavy, his breathing deepening.

Within ten minutes they were both asleep.

* * *

Laurel woke with a start to the distracting sound of her alarm. Surfacing, she realised where she was, or rather with _who_ she was.

Slade had already reached for her phone and handed the beeping device to her. Turning it off, she moved away from him slightly. She didn't know what to say. He'd come into her bedroom in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. She'd let him into her bed because she didn't have the strength to deny him, or herself, especially since she hadn't been able to sleep without him either.

"We need to get going," she said awkwardly.

He was looking at her, his gaze probing. "I know."

It was just after 6am. His flight departed in two hours.

She tried not to stare, the sight of his naked torso bringing back memories she knew were dangerous. Glancing down she noticed that the strap of her vest had fallen down to reveal the curve of her breast. That's where his eyes were riveted.

Feeling her cheeks flame, she yanked it up and bolted out of the bed.

"I'm going to shower."

Once again, she ran from the room.

* * *

Slade stood at the airport trying desperately to focus his attention on what needed to be done. The main problem was that every time he glanced at Laurel, he felt the almost visceral need to grab hold of her and never let her go. Impossible, he knew, but he couldn't stop himself from wanting to nonetheless.

Standing at the entrance to his boarding gate, Diggle approaching him first.

"It's been a pleasure, man." They shook hands. "I don't know if I'll be getting Down Under anytime soon, but if I ever do, you're the one guy I'll be looking up."

Slade grinned at him. "Thanks for everything, mate. I owe you one." They embraced before Diggle moved off to the side.

Next up was Thea and Tommy. "You saved my big brother's life more times than he can count. That totally makes you one of us," Thea laughed as she hugged him. "Be safe."

Slade liked Oliver's sister a lot. She was the exact opposite of her brother – lively, vivacious and always armed with a bucket load of witticisms. She never failed to brighten up any room.

"Great meeting you, Slade. You know the offer still stands – if you ever decide to head our way again, Merlyn Global would love to have you." Tommy gave him a firm hand shake and a pat on the back.

Slade couldn't help smiling at the other man's persistence. "You'll be the first to know," he said, sure that he'd never cash in on that offer.

Felicity approached him, her eyes moist. "You have no idea how happy I am that you're okay and that you're finally free to go home. I wish you could stay," she said with a sad smile.

He hugged her tightly. She had a heart of gold and Oliver was a lucky man. "Thanks for everything, Felicity."

She sniffed and kissed him on the cheek. "Good luck with Joe. Have a safe trip."

Oliver walked up to him slowly and Slade couldn't help the swell of emotion that rose within him. They clasped hands and embraced tightly.

"You know you're always welcome in my home, brother. Whenever. _Always_," Oliver said into his shoulder.

He nodded. He knew that the bond they shared ran deeper than any he'd ever experienced in his whole life.

"Thanks. I didn't know that the bratty snob I met so long ago would one day become the best friend I ever had," he said, slapping Oliver's back fondly.

The other man smiled, visibly affected by his words. "Don't be a stranger. Felicity didn't show you how to email for nothing. Make sure you use the new skills you've learnt. And if all else fails, call."

Slade laughed. He'd had quite a few technology catch-up sessions with Queen Consolidated's Head of IT.

"I promise to keep in touch," he vowed.

Oliver nodded. "Safe journey," he said.

Slade noticed that Oliver steered the group a little further away as Laurel approached him at last. She looked pale and withdrawn. She was also fidgeting with her hands.

She was a good head shorter than him, even more so since she wasn't wearing heels, but casual jeans, a jacket and ballet pumps.

"Best of luck, Slade. I wish you the-," she started, her voice trembling.

He grabbed her hands, surprised at how cold they were.

"Laurel," he interjected softly, watching her throat work as she swallowed.

Tears gathered in her bright green eyes and try as he might, he couldn't hold back anymore. Her gathered her close and held the length of her body against his, burying his nose in her hair, inhaling her intoxicating scent for the last time.

"You've put up with more than your fair share of my bad behaviour and yet you always believed in me. I'll never forget that," he whispered into her ear. And then because he couldn't stop himself, "_I'll never forget_ _you_. Thank you for everything."

He felt one of her tears slide down the side of his face and he held her tighter.

"You're one hell of a woman, Miss Lance and you're going so make some bastard the luckiest man alive. I hope he deserves you," he choked out, hating the idea of her with anyone else, the mere thought cutting him up inside.

She pulled back and looked at him through wet lashes. She dashed the tears off her cheeks.

"Don't underestimate your ability to overcome your past, Slade. There is so much more to you than what you've been through. You are one of the best men I've ever known. Find Joe. Be happy." More tears fell.

She stood on her toes and kissed him, her arms wrapping around his neck. It was the sweetest kiss he'd ever known. It was filled with warmth and caring and all her pent-up emotion.

He wanted it to last forever.

When she finally pulled back, she briefly rested her forehead against his before she looked into his eyes.

"Don't forget to remember me," she whispered brokenly, kissing him one last time before turning around and walking away. He could tell by the trembling in her shoulders that she was crying.

Watching her leave he realised, probably for the first time in his life, that he was in love. The worst part was that he had no choice but to let her go. His arms felt empty, his heart felt heavy and his soul felt lost without her.

It nearly killed him – the pain far worse, far more crippling and infinitely more devastating than any form of physical torture he'd ever experienced.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Australian Slang:**

**Bail out: depart**

**Maccas: McDonald's**

* * *

Three months had passed since Slade's departure and life had moved on. Laurel had her work which she still loved it as much as ever and she had her friends; the Queen's and the Merlyn's seemed to have adopted her as a lonely stray, but still she couldn't forget him. Slade Wilson was the last thing she thought about at night and the first thing on her mind when she woke up the next day.

Some days were better than others. There were times when she could go for stretches, completely productive, going about the daily necessities that filled her life and then there were other days when the sight of his favourite Chinese takeout reduced her to tears.

She missed him. Every moment of every day felt empty without him. He hadn't called and she hadn't attempted to make contact either. She knew that Oliver had spoken to him a few times because Felicity had attempted to talk to her about it but she hadn't wanted to listen. There was no way she'd ever be able to truly move on if she was constantly reminded of him.

Contrary to that resolution was the fact that she still hadn't changed anything in the guest bedroom. It was still exactly as he'd left it. Sometimes when she was feeling particularly low, she'd climb under the covers in the hopes of being closer to him. Initially she'd been able to smell him on the pillows but now, even that was gone. All she had left were memories and while she had no regrets, sometimes the pain of remembering was almost too much to bear.

It was a warm Saturday afternoon and Laurel, Felicity and Thea were sitting at the pool at the Queen mansion, bathing their feet in the cool, crystal clear water. Robbie, already crawling, was rolling around from back to front, amusing himself with the myriad of stuffed toys surrounding him. All three women were watching him closely.

Laurel, comfortable in demin cut-offs and a casual white shirt, lifted her hair off her shoulders and tied it back into a haphazard ponytail.

"Thanks for inviting me over, ladies. This beats the admin I was planning on doing today," she said as she swirled her feet in the water. It was a beautiful day and with her two entertaining companions at her side, she should have been happy. She was anything but.

She felt Thea's gaze on her. "You do a pretty good job pretending to be happy," she replied, though not unkindly.

"Thea!" Felicity exclaimed, although Laurel could tell by the look the two women exchanged, that Felicity had probably been thinking the same thing.

"What?" Thea asked as she took a sip of her fizzy drink. "Look at her," she pointed at Laurel. "She's been moping about for weeks!" She stared at her. "No offense or anything, but you need to do something about your predicament. You cannot let that hunk of a man just disappear from your life."

Laurel had never known anyone who was more forthright than Thea Merlyn. She thought about pretending that everything was okay, and then realised that she didn't have the energy to lie.

She sighed. "There's nothing to be done. I live here. He lives there. There is no common ground."

Thea rolled her eyes. "Oh please. There is always a solution to every problem."

As she spoke, Thea swatted a fly away and Laurel watched as the beautiful pear shaped diamond on her wedding finger glinted in the sunlight. It wasn't the diamond itself that affected her as much as what it symbolised – love, commitment and a sense of belonging – none of which she had.

Felicity pushed a blonde bang behind her ear. "Thea, it's not as simple as you make it sound. The man is practically on the other side of the world. Long distance relationships?" She wagged a finger at her sister-in-law. "Never works out."

"Exactly," Laurel agreed. "Besides, Slade and I were not in a relationship. I don't even know how he feels…felt…whatever," she waved a hand in the air, "about me." She shook her head at her own confusion.

Thea used her foot to lightly splash some water on Laurel's legs. "Were we at the same airport? Because that smooch the two of you exchanged looked anything but friendly to me."

Laurel felt her cheeks turn red. "It was a goodbye, nothing more-"

Felicity interjected. "I have to agree with Thea on this one. I saw that kiss. You two nearly burned the place down. I'm surprised your apartment is still standing." She bit her lip, trying not to laugh as she said it.

Thea's eyes bulged as she caught onto Felicity's meaning. "You're a dark horse!" she said, laughing out loud.

Laurel thought back and couldn't stop the longing that welled up inside her.

"He's gone," she said softly. "He won't be coming back."

Both women sobered immediately. Felicity looked at her sadly. "For what it's worth, Oliver says he doesn't seem happy either."

That knowledge didn't give her any comfort. "Once he has Joe, if he doesn't already, I have no doubt that he'll be over the moon."

Felicity opened her mouth to speak but Thea cut her off, "Enough of the pity party already!" She looked at Laurel. "Do you love him?" she asked boldly.

Taken aback, Laurel gaped at her.

"Well?" she demanded impatiently.

"Yes, but-"

Thea whooped. "I knew it!" She clapped her hands excitedly.

"This is something we all know," Felicity reminded Thea drolly, pushing her spectacles back up the bridge of her nose.

_Am I this transparent?_

"True," the younger woman acknowledged. She raised a finger. "But now we can discuss options."

Laurel frowned at her. "What options?"

"Why don't you go after him?" Thea asked seriously.

For the second time Laurel's mouth practically hit the floor. "What?"

"You mean as in physically go to Australia?" Head cocked to the side, Felicity pondered her own words.

Thea nodded enthusiastically.

"You two have lost your minds!" Laurel exclaimed, lifting her feet from the water and grabbing a towel.

Felicity watched her son as he grabbed hold of the banana she gave him, sucking on it eagerly.

"Thea has a point. Just because he might have some difficulty coming back here, doesn't mean you can't go there. What's stopping you?"

Laurel stared at them, shocked at what they were suggesting. "My job-"

Thea scoffed. "You're a lawyer. You can work anywhere. Next excuse?" she challenged.

"My Dad-"

"Is over-protective, yes, but he loves you and he doesn't need you to babysit him. That's not an excuse either," Felicity stated.

Laurel threw the towel aside and would have stood up but Felicity deposited Robbie in her lap. No doubt it was her way of keeping her put. She grabbed hold of the baby and glared at the two accomplices.

"My life is here. I can't just pack up and leave. I don't even know if he _wants _me or not," she said reasonably.

Thea looked at her curiously. "Yet if the shoe was on the other foot, you'd have no qualms with him giving up his life to come and stay here?"

Laurel shook her head. "That's not what I meant-" _Is it?_

"Slade had as good a reason as any to go back home, Laurel. It's for the sake of his child. That may be the only thing that's preventing him from coming back," Felicity said softly. "I saw his face when he left. That was not the look of a man who didn't care about you."

Thea pressed forward. "You have options. If you love him and you believe that there's even the slightest chance that you could make things work, why not go and see what happens? At least then you'll never spend the rest of your life wondering."

She reached a hand toward her nephew and smiled as he grabbed it, wanting to shove it into his mouth alongside the fruit he was eating. She looked up at Laurel again.

"If he's not worth all that, fine. In time you'll move on and none of us would think any differently of you. But if you feel about him the way I suspect that you do, then no amount of time will change that."

Laurel swallowed the lump in her throat. She couldn't believe that she was actually considering what they were proposing. It seemed like madness. But the more she thought about it, the more she couldn't just dismiss the possibility.

She cuddled the baby close to her. "What if he doesn't feel the same way?" she asked, her voice filled with uncertainty.

Felicity placed a hand on her shoulder. "Then at least you know you tried and you can move on without any regrets."

"You've got nothing to lose, Laurel, and so much to gain," Thea encouraged.

She stood and handed the baby back to Felicity.

"I-I need to think." It was all a little overwhelming. "Thank you for a lovely afternoon." She shoved her feet into her flat thong sandals and grabbed her pink cardigan from the grass as she hastily headed toward the back door.

"Do you think that was a good idea?" Felicity asked worriedly as she stared after Laurel.

Thea smiled. "It's the push she needed." She patted her sister-in-laws hand before reaching for her nephew. "She loves him. Trust me, they'll be back together in no time."

"How can you be so sure?"

Thea laughed. "You and I are the perfect examples of love finding a way."

Acknowledging her words, Felicity laughed too, equally convinced that where there was a will, there was a way.

* * *

He missed her. He'd thought that after being separated for a few months that things would become easier. It hadn't. If anything, his feelings for Laurel had only intensified. He'd not made any contact with her because he hadn't known what to say. It wasn't as though things had suddenly changed and he could now offer her a future. Living in another country, he couldn't offer her anything.

The bulk of his time had been spent getting reacquainted with his son. His ex had remarried and in doing so had been forced to leave Joe with his grandmother since her new husband travelled a lot and she hadn't wanted his schooling disrupted. The result meant that Joe was desperately lacking parental guidance and affection and because of it he was a shy boy who seemed to believe that everyone he cared about had abandoned him.

Initially after Slade's return, Joe had remained distant, not wanting to grow too attached, afraid he'd leave again. However, with constant reassurance and the physical evidence of his presence day in and day out, Joe's paranoia had lessened significantly, but not entirely. He was a bright boy who was naturally affectionate. Slade revelled in his son's happiness at having him permanently back in his life and Joe thrived under the tutelage of the man he'd once believed he'd never meet.

His newfound relationship with Joe and the sincere joy that brought him didn't mean that he'd forgotten about Laurel. There were hundreds of times a day when he yearned to pick up the phone and call her or even to do the cowardly thing and send her an email – a tool he'd quickly learnt was probably one of the most popular and effective modes of communication – before he changed his mind, reminding himself again and again that nothing had changed.

He leaned against the bonnet of the silver Subaru Forester he'd purchased a few weeks back, while he waited for Joe to head out of school. Once he media attention had died down, he'd managed to make a few plans. He'd had money before his disappearance, all of which had been stashed away until the day his son turned eighteen. Since he wasn't actually dead, the funds reverted back to him. He'd also received a sizable sum of cash from the Government as a means of reparation, not that any amount of money would ever make up for all that he'd been through and all that he'd lost. They'd also offered him a job – a thing he'd been quick to decline. He had no intention of ever going back to that life.

He couldn't help the swell of pride that enveloped him as he watched the gangly boy heading his way.

"Right on time," he smiled as he ruffled his son's dark hair.

Joe shrugged. "I knew you'd be waiting for me, so I hurried."

He frowned. "You didn't have to. I don't mind if you take your time. I won't bail out on you." The last part he said softly, watching the boy's face closely.

When Joe's shoulders drooped, he knew he'd hit the mark. They climbed into the car and Slade sat still for a moment.

"Joe," he started, turning slightly in his seat. "I know I've been gone for a long time and that there's no way I can ever make up for all the times you needed me and I couldn't be there." His son didn't look at him, but Slade could tell that he was listening intently. "I want you to believe me when I say that I will never willingly leave you again. Ever. _You_ are the only thing that brought me back home."

Still Joe didn't look at him, but his chin was wobbling as though he was on the verge of crying. Slade felt his heart slam against his chest. He'd give anything to remove the insecurities that his son continued to feel.

"I know you're not happy, Dad," he eventually confessed.

Slade looked at him in surprise. "What? Of course I am. I'm with you, that's all I want."

Joe shook his head. "It's not. Ever since you came home you've been happy when I'm around and then when you think you're alone you look so sad."

His chest tightened as he realised that Joe was more intuitive than he'd thought.

"It's not about you. I am happy here, I'm happy with you." He placed a hand on the boy's chin and lifted it up until their eyes met. "Do you believe that?"

The innocence staring back at him was something he still wasn't quite used to. He'd been surrounded by suffering and hardships for far too long.

Joe searched his gaze and Slade looked at him steadily, wanting to be sure that his child had no doubts.

Finally, he nodded.

"But there's something you're not telling me," he insisted, rubbing the moisture from his eyes.

He didn't think it was appropriate to discuss the fact that the woman he loved was on the other side of the world, with his kid.

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine," he assured him.

Joe looked at him sceptically and he was astonished at how it felt like looking at a younger version of himself.

"Please, Dad. Don't lie to me."

He closed his eyes briefly. "I met someone while I was in the States. I just miss her sometimes."

Curious brown eyes widened. "You left her to come and get me?"

Slade's features softened. "Nothing would have stopped me from coming for you."

He looked away shyly. "So have you called her?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"This is not something I want to discuss with my son."

Joe rolled his eyes. "This is what man talk is all about."

Slade laughed, he couldn't help it. "I think you're a little too young for man talk."

The boy shook his head. "I'm ten. I'm already way behind my friends," he declared. "Why haven't you called her?"

_He gets the persistence from me._ "Because there's nothing to say. She's there. I'm here. End of story."

"Basically what you're saying is that you left her because of me."

"No!" Slade denied. "I left because you were, and still are, my main priority. Joe, I'm here because I _want _to be, not because I _have_ to be."

He nodded. "I'm not saying that you don't want to be here. I'm just asking that if it wasn't for me, if you'd have stayed there?"

Slade answered truthfully. "Yes, I might have."

"Does Uncle Ollie know about her?" he asked, leaning back against the head rest.

Slade nodded. "He does."

Joe smiled slowly. "Okay. I'm hungry," he said suddenly, changing the subject.

He was momentarily taken off guard by the rapid change in conversation.

"I guess it's Maccas then," he said, as he started the engine, the image of Laurel imprinted on his mind.

* * *

A week later Laurel wheeled her suitcase into the lounge. She's thought long and hard and in the end the decision had actually been an easy one. She loved Slade more than anything – more than her job, more than the comforts of the familiar. She wanted to be with him and if that meant travelling thousands of miles to hear if he felt the same way, then that's what she was willing to do.

She didn't suppose it would be easy. He had a ten year old son that she hoped would like her enough to give her a chance to prove that they could be friends. She desperately wanted that. Joe was a permanent part of Slade's life. They were a package deal and she accepted that wholeheartedly. She wouldn't want the one without the other. She was ready to face whatever challenges came her way. The only thing she couldn't do anymore was pretend that she could live without him. She couldn't.

If she got there and he didn't feel the same way… then she'd figure it out from there. She didn't want to think about the negatives.

Her father walked toward her carrying her overnight bag.

"Laurel, are you sure about this?" he asked worriedly. "Think about your job, your friends, your family."

Laurel smiled at him indulgently. "Dad, you will not guilt trip me into staying. I've made up my mind. I'm going."

He ran a hand through his thinning hair, looking slightly frazzled. "What do you really know about this guy? He could be some-"

She placed a finger over his lips to silence him. "He's a good man. I'm in love with him and if he'll have me then I'll be the happiest and luckiest woman alive. Please try and be supportive."

He gave her a defeated look. "He'd be a fool to turn you away. I just- I don't like the idea of you so far away. I can't protect you from here."

Laurel laughed. "I don't need protecting anymore. "I want to be happy, Dad and I'll only be happy once I know where I stand with Slade."

He looked at her desperately before hugging her to him. "I love you, honey. I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm already hurting. This can only make it better. One way or another," she said into his shoulder.

There was a knock at the door.

Laurel extracted herself from his arms and opened the door.

She froze in place and her heart leapt into her throat. Standing in front of her was Slade and a boy she recognised as Joe, bags at their feet.

Her eyes roamed over his whisker covered face, so familiar and so beloved. In blue jeans and a tan leather jacket over a white t-shirt, he was gorgeous.

Glancing at the youngster at his side, she noted the mischievous smile on the boy's face and her heart melted instantly. He was so like Slade.

"My Dad's here to ask you to marry him and be my new Mom," he blurted.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: In the end, I needed another chapter to wrap up this story, so this is the final chapter. The Epilogue will follow shortly, hopefully before Monday. :)**

**I want to thank everyone supported my idea of Slade and Laurel as a viable couple. They will most likely never be canon, but I happen to think that they might just be perfect for each other. Thank you to everyone who have read, reviewed, sent me messages, favourited and followed this story. I appreciate it.**

**LadyG**

* * *

_Christ!_

Slade glared at his son, shocked at his bold admission. That was not how he'd envisioned their reunion. In fact, that was not at all what they'd discussed was going to be said.

"Joe!" he admonished, while chancing a look at Laurel's face to gauge her reaction.

She looked stunned, her mouth hanging open as her gaze moved from his son to him. Their eyes met and his breath hitched at the back of his throat. She looked as beautiful as ever. Her glorious mane of hair tumbling down her back and shoulders, her green eyes wide with astonishment.

"What?" Joe asked nonchalantly. "Isn't that what you told me?" He appeared all innocence, but Slade knew better.

He prayed for patience. "No, it's not," he refuted out of the corner of his mouth. The little scamp had the audacity to grin at him as though he hadn't just dropped a bomb.

Ignoring his offspring for a moment he looked at the woman who still hadn't said a word.

"Hi," he said, feeling a little awkward.

She gave him a small smile. "Hi."

The silence stretched as Joe looked from one to the other, rolling his eyes.

"I'm Joe," he said, extending his hand.

Slade remembered his manners. At the same time he realized that he hadn't ever had any before he met Laurel. The thought made him want to laugh.

"This kid who happens to say the most inappropriate things is, as he's stated, my son, Joe," he placed a hand on a thin shoulder.

He watched as Laurel's gaze swung back to the boy, her eyes softening. She stepped toward him and bent forward slightly, holding out her hand.

"Hello, Joe. I'm really excited to finally meet you." She gave the boy a beaming smile and he had to stomp on the smidgen of jealousy that cropped up within him. _Get a grip!_

Joe grasped her hand and shook it firmly. "I've heard a lot about you," he smiled in return. "You're just as pretty as my Dad said."

Slade watched as a blush spread across her cheeks. "Thank you. You're quite a handsome guy yourself," she teased.

He laughed. "Dad says I'm too young to have a girlfriend. But chicks dig me."

Laurel laughed and Slade rolled his eyes. "Step aside, young man. That's enough from you."

He shifted a little, blocking Joe from her view.

"Could we talk, please?" he asked softly.

She nodded and he got the impression that she was nervous. "Come inside." She opened the door wider.

Picking up their bags, he walked in and noticed an older man standing at the lounge table reading a paper. He must have heard their approach because he looked up. Surprise was the first thing Slade recognized. The next was fury.

"You!" Quentin Lance growled.

Laurel stepped forward just before her father butted chests with him. "Dad! Stop it!"

Her father pointed a finger at him. "You ruined my little girl. Do you have any idea how you've hurt her?" The older man was right up in his face.

"Mr. Lance, if you'd let me explain-" Slade started, remaining calm.

"Dad!" Laurel exclaimed.

Quentin didn't even stop talking. "Which brings me back to how you two met! What were you thinking placing my girl in danger like that? I ought to have you thrown in jail for," he ran a hand through his thinning hair. "I don't know what, but I'm sure I could come up with something! You used her and then you ran off, not knowing what a good thing you had. Now you're back? What the hell for?!"

"He came back home for me," came a defiant voice from behind them.

All eyes turned to the young boy in the room. Quentin backed away from Slade and stared at the child.

"This your old man?" he asked gruffly.

Joe's chin hardened. "Yes, Sir. He didn't leave because he wanted to. He left to get me back."

Quentin turned his eyes back to Slade. "I guess that means I owe you an apology." He didn't look very apologetic, but Slade appreciated that he didn't want to get into a row in front of Joe.

"Thank you."

The cop eyed him suspiciously while Laurel grabbed her father's arm. "I think you need to go."

"You're kicking me out?" he demanded, his eyes still glued to Slade's.

She pushed him gently. "No, I'm politely stating that you need to leave."

"It's the same thing!"

She shook her head. "It's not." Kissing his cheek, she added, "I'll call you later."

Quentin glanced over at Joe. "Kid, can I trust you to keep your eyes out for anything fishy?"

The boy nodded seriously.

"Alright." He extended his fist.

The child looked at it and grinned broadly before bumping his fist against the older man's.

Laurel stared at her father. "You fist bump?" she asked in disbelief.

"What?" he asked self consciously. "I'm cool."

She laughed as she pushed him toward the exit.

"Call me if you need anything," he said, his eyes flashing a warning in Slade's direction.

She nodded, and he suspected she did so merely to appease her father. Once he stepped out, she firmly closed the door behind him.

Suddenly silence descended around them.

* * *

Laurel swallowed as she stared at the man who'd occupied her every waking thought since she'd met him. His son's blurted confession – which had almost resulted in happiness-induced-heart-failure – had set her on edge. She didn't dare to hope.

She watched as his eyes darted to the bags in the middle of the room.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

She nodded. "I was."

Joe was standing to one side, his head moving between them like someone watching a tennis match.

Slade looked at his son and then at Laurel. "Think he could watch some tellie while we talk?"

She turned toward Joe, marvelling at how much he looked like his father. They had the same spiky black hair, the same tanned skin, the same adorable smile.

"Ah Dad. But this is so much fun!"

Laurel grinned, despite her best efforts not to. "The TV is in my bedroom. Feel free to make yourself at home. There's a selection of DVD's for you to choose from if you'd like?"

He looked at his parent for permission. When Slade nodded his eyes lit up.

"Cool!" He sprinted in the direction she pointed.

Finally alone, Slade's eyes went back at the bags. "Where are you going?"

She walked around him and straightened the pillows on the couch. Ignoring his question, she countered, "Why are you here?"

She kept her back to him, afraid that if she continued to look at him she'd end up throwing herself into his arms. She felt him walk up behind her, his body heat permeating through her shirt. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling.

"Look at me," he whispered, his voice low and deep.

She turned, unable to disobey his command. Their eyes met, green locking with deep brown and her heart sped up at the heat in his. Her hands itched to touch him, but she knotted them together in an attempt to keep them to herself.

He reached out with both hands and cupped her cheeks. He was standing so close to her she could smell him, his scent stirring her memory. His hands were warm against her soft skin; his calloused palms a familiar and welcome sensation. A million butterflies took flight within her tummy.

"I'm here because I want you. Because I want to be with you. Because I left here thinking that I could live without you and realized the second that you walked away from me that I can't." He was staring at her so intently, she was sure he would see into her very soul. The more he spoke, the more emotional she became.

"Laurel," he whispered tenderly. "I know that I'm not an easy man to live with and I realize that I'm more complicated than you might have the patience for-"

Her heart melted at the vulnerability that was evident on his face.

"Slade-" she started, but he cut her off.

"Let me finish, please."

She closed her mouth and waited.

"Joe's mother and I reached an agreement. We'll still share custody of him, but he'll live with me for as long as he wants to. Naturally, he'll visit her, but his primary home will be wherever I am. I can't just assume that you'd be willing to take on a ready-made family-"

She placed a finger over his lips to silence him.

"Don't. Joe is your son and I would never expect you to give him up. Your devotion to him is one of the things I admire most about you. I would love to get to know him and I hope that in time we can be friends."

Slade smiled. "He can be a handful," he warned.

"I was raised by a cop. I can handle a ten year old," she replied, laughing.

His eyes darkened and her laughter died in her throat. _Lord, he's handsome._

"It was his idea to come back to the States, you know. He said he could tell that you were _cool _based on your Facebook page?" He looked at her curiously.

Laurel burst out laughing, completely charmed. "Your son was cyber stalking me?"

"Apparently." He laughed too. "But that was before he contacted Oliver and they teamed up in an attempt to convince me to come back."

She grinned. "I think that Joe and I are going to be best friends."

He sobered for a moment. "You know that if things had been different, I would never have left you?" He looked at her intently.

"I know that now."

He acknowledged her words with a small nod. Taking a deep breath he grasped her hands in his.

"Laurel, I promise that if you take a chance on me, I'll always honour and respect you, I'll do my best to provide you with a good home and," he swallowed nervously, "I'll love you for as long as you let me."

At his declaration her eyes filled with tears. "Ask me again."

He looked at her, confused. "Ask you what?"

"Where I was going when you arrived."

He frowned. "Where were you going?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into him. "Down Under actually."

She heard his rapid intake of breath. "What?" he breathed in disbelief.

"I was planning on flying over there to convince you that we belong together. I love you, Slade. I think I loved you from the second I saw you." Tears rolled down her cheeks.

He gathered her to him and hugged her close. "I didn't want to believe that you'd feel the same."

She pulled back slightly, running her hands over the back of his head. "I do. Imagine if we'd missed each other?"

"Fate would not have been that cruel. She knew how desperately I wanted to hold you in my arms again," he said huskily before his lips descended to meet hers.

The kiss they shared was unlike any other that had come before it. It was filled with their newfound discovery of love, the pain of their separation and the joy at being reunited.

Laurel clung to him, unable to believe that her dreams were finally coming true. "I've missed you so much," she whispered as his lips lifted off hers and their foreheads touched, each one catching their breaths.

Slade nodded. "I've missed you too. More than you know." He swept her hair back and leaned down to kiss the side of her neck. Her pulse leapt at the warm touch of his lips. Instantly her mind conjured images of the last time they'd been as close.

She giggled. "We can't."

He growled. "Surely you have enough DVD's to keep him entertained while I devour you?" His arms circled her waist, holding her against him.

Laughing happily she pushed him away from her. "Behave yourself," she warned, her eyes twinkling.

"You ask the impossible," he said with a grin, lifting her into his arms before sitting down on the couch. Laurel landed comfortably in his lap.

"You were really planning on leaving all this behind?" he asked, looking around.

She traced the scar on the side of his face. "I already had. I'm currently unemployed."

Slade smirked. "Then this would be the best time to get you barefoot and pregnant?" he asked, a wicked gleam in his eye.

Laurel scoffed, despite the fact that her stomach did somersaults at the mere thought.

Smiling, she said, "I can only imagine what my Dad will have to say about that."

"What do you mean?" he asked, nibbling on her ear.

"Pregnant and unmarried is not exactly his dream for me. He's old school like that."

He grasped her chin and turned her head toward him. Their eyes met. "You misunderstand my meaning."

Suddenly she couldn't breathe. "Oh?"

"You're marrying me," he declared. "That's not negotiable."

Her heart burst with joy. "A tad arrogant of you to not even ask me?" she teased.

He held her closer. "You're not getting away from me ever again. I want you to belong to me completely. Just as I will belong to you."

She touched her lips to his softly. "Yes."

Just as the kiss was about to get a little out of hand, Laurel heard a "yuck" from close by. Pulling back, she saw Joe watching them, shaking his head in mock disgust.

She grinned. He grinned back.

Slade moved slightly and she landed on the seat beside him. "Watch your mouth, young man," he chastised, but Laurel could tell he was equally amused.

Her phone rang. She leaned forward and retrieved it off the table. It was Oliver.

"I assume this is for you?" she asked, holding the phone out to Slade.

He smiled and took it from her, stepping away as he answered.

Joe walked in slowly, suddenly appearing shy without his father around. Laurel patted the seat Slade had just vacated. He sat down.

"Your Dad told me that you convinced him to come back," she said with a small smile.

He nodded. "Yeah, he wasn't really happy."

"What about you? Do you think you could be happy here?" She felt the urge to touch him, but she didn't know how it would be received, so she held back.

He shrugged, making as though he didn't care, but she knew that couldn't be true. "I guess."

Following her instincts, she reached over and lightly touched his arm. "If your Dad hadn't come back, I would be on a flight to Australia right now." She pointed to her bags. "So I understand what you've sacrificed for him."

She could see his chin wobble slightly and her heart turned over. He was a lot more sensitive than he let on. A chip off the old block.

"I want you to know that I love your father very much and that I have no intention of taking him away from you. I wouldn't succeed, even if I tried. He adores you." She squeezed his arm reassuringly. "I would like for us to be friends though. I don't know much about ten year olds, but I'd love if you would teach me?" she asked, watching as his gaze swung around to meet hers.

Deep brown, vulnerable eyes stared at her, as though gauging her honesty. "Are you going to marry my Dad?" he asked suddenly.

Laurel wasn't quite sure how to handle the question, but she decided to be honest. "I would like to. But I know that I could never do that if I didn't have your blessing. I'll be the one joining _your_ family. I think it's important that you have a say too."

He looked at her in astonishment. "You want to know how I feel about it?" It was as though he'd never thought that his opinion mattered.

She nodded emphatically. "Of course. If I marry your Dad," she explained cautiously, "then that would make you my son too. And while I understand that I'm not your real mom," she added hastily, "it's important to me that you don't feel like your feelings weren't taken into account."

He went quiet and Laurel felt a moments panic. _Am I saying the wrong thing?_

"My real mom has sort of given me away," he said softly. His face was so open, so exposed, his insecurities right there for her to see. Laurel wanted to hold him close and never let go.

Tentatively she placed an arm loosely around his shoulders. "I'm sure she loves you very much. But regardless of where you are, you will _always_ have a home wherever we are. _I_ want you here too, Joe. With us."

She could see his eyes well with tears and she turned away, not wanting to embarrass him. She was feeling rather emotional herself.

He took a second to compose himself. "Uncle Oliver was right."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

He looked at her and smiled. "He said you'd make an awesome mom."

She swallowed her tears. "I'm going to try my best," she promised.

Not caring about whether it was too soon, she scooted over and hugged him to her side. She was surprised, but thrilled when he hugged her back.

* * *

That was how Slade found them when his call with Oliver ended. The two most important people in his life – Laurel and Joe - had obviously reached an understanding. Looking at them he'd never felt more grateful to be alive or more excited about the future. He would never be able to regain the years that he'd lost while in captivity, but it no longer even mattered. He now had an opportunity to make a fresh start and he wasn't planning on letting the chance slip away from him.

He'd travelled a long road in order to find some measure of peace. It was still a work in progress and some days were easier than others. While still in Australia he'd taken the first steps toward his psychological healing by going to see a counsellor who specialised in abductions and its associated trauma. He'd been reluctant initially but ultimately the choice hadn't been a difficult one to make. He needed to do it for himself, but he also had a responsibility toward Joe, Laurel, his friends and the life they would all create together.

He'd been referred to a different counsellor when he'd made his intentions to move to the US known. Once they'd settled in, he'd resume his sessions and he'd keep it going for as long as he needed to. Laurel had given him so much, healed him in so many ways, but ensuring that he worked through all of his mental wounds was his gift to himself.

He'd once believed that his experience on Lian Yu and everything that had followed as a direct result had broken him. It had finally taken the love, caring and patience of a good woman to mend the shattered pieces of his soul. He wasn't broken anymore. In fact, he'd never felt more whole.

Laurel loved him. He loved her. He had his son back. In the end, that was all that really mattered.

Finally he'd found what he hadn't known he'd been looking for.

A family.


	14. Epilogue

**A/N: We are finally at the end of Slade and Laurel's story. Again, a big thank you to everyone who believed that they'd make as awesome a pair as I did. :)**

**I hope you've enjoyed their journey.**

**LadyG**

**P.S - Thanks to Shingalala for the line I borrowed. ;)**

* * *

_Two Years Later_

"Joe!" Laurel called from the kitchen.

"Yes, Mom?"

She smiled. It never got old. When Joe had asked her if he could call her "Mom" she'd been overjoyed. Not because she'd wanted to usurp the rights of his biological parent, but because she realized that he knew how much she genuinely loved him. No one who didn't know their circumstances would ever guess that she hadn't given birth to him.

"Are you almost ready?" she called back.

"Yeah!"

It was his twelfth birthday and all their friends and family were coming over to celebrate. Joe was super excited because his best friends were coming too. Glancing at the clock, she knew that arrivals were imminent.

_My family._

One month after Slade's return they'd married in a small, private ceremony. Joe and Oliver had joined the wedding party as the two groomsmen and Felicity had filled the role of her single bridesmaid.

Both the bride and groom had been decked out in _Drama Queen_ originals that Thea had designed and custom made for them in record time. The rich cream one shoulder, A-line chiffon gown with lace appliqués and beading on the bodice had been simple and comfortable, yet romantic and elegant all at the same time. Laurel had never felt more beautiful. The look in Slade's eyes as he'd watched her walk down the aisle on her father's arm had only reaffirmed the feeling. She'd never forget how handsome he'd looked in his black suit with a cream waist coat, shirt and silk tie.

The day itself had been perfect - exactly as Laurel had always imagined it would be. Neither of them had wanted a large extravaganza since all they'd really cared about was finally being together and getting on with the rest of their lives.

And life truly was good. Looking out of the window she could see the tables that had been set up in the back yard to the side of the pool. Just earlier that morning Slade had secured a net over the aquamarine water to ensure that all the children would be safe if they ran outside to play.

She loved their home. They'd purchased the four bedroom house with a pool and double garage in a leafy suburb not far from the City soon after their marriage. It had become very clear that her old apartment wouldn't be able to accommodate all of them for long.

She'd also gone back to work. CNRI had given her her job back as soon as she'd asked for it. She still enjoyed the sense of purpose she derived from it, but it wasn't her whole life anymore. With a family of her own, she'd cut down significantly.

She turned as he heard a commotion behind her.

"I'm going to catch you!" called Slade as a giggling little girl came running toward her.

Laurel laughed as she caught her daughter and lifted her into her arms. At fourteen months old she was a bundle of boundless energy.

"Da-da-da-da!" she repeated, charming her father with a toothy grin.

As he approached, she launched herself at him, squealing in delight as he lifted her high and twirled her around.

Sarah had been their honeymoon surprise. She'd had fallen pregnant immediately and they'd both been delighted, but no one more so than Joe. He'd longed for a sibling, making his desire known before they'd even married. It brought her a lot of joy to see how much he loved his sister and how much as she adored him.

Looking at father and daughter, Laurel noted their similarities. Sarah had inherited her fair complexion, but she had Slade's dark eyes and hair. Watching them together never failed to make her slightly emotional. Slade was an amazing father to both of their children and each one idolized him in turn. His daughter, in particular, had him wrapped around her little finger.

"I thought you were putting her down for her nap?" Laurel asked with a raised eyebrow.

Her husband gave her an apologetic grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"This young lady," he said, tickling Sarah's tummy until she laughed noisily, "refused to close her eyes."

Laurel shook her head. "She's exactly like you. If you don't expend all your excess energy before bed, you can't sleep either."

He glanced at her and her knees turned to jelly at the look in his eyes. Moving closer, their daughter tucked safely against him, he lowered his lips to hers.

"Isn't it a great thing that I have a wife who's always willing to help me in that department?" he whispered huskily.

Laurel grabbed hold of the counter behind her to keep her legs from giving way. Sarah, disinterested in their activities, wiggled down until her father set her on the floor. Immediately she ran for her wooden blocks just outside the kitchen door.

"Do not start something you cannot finish, Wilson," she warned him with a smile as he pulled her unresisting body against his.

After two years together she found him even more attractive than she had when they'd first met. All he needed to do was look in her direction and she turned into a trembling mass of need.

He chuckled in satisfaction. "Half the fun is the anticipation of what's to come," he replied, his hands sliding around her back and settling on her hips.

She lifted her arms and caressed his shoulders as the diamonds in her three stacked bands on the fourth finger of her left hand winked at her.

"We have a hoard of people arriving at any minute," she said, leaning into him.

"Gross! Get a room!" came a voice from the doorway.

Laurel and Slade didn't break apart, but glanced at the tall pre-teen staring at them, a look of amused indulgence on his face.

"Your mother had something in her eye," Slade said, his lips quivering.

Joe rolled his eyes. "You said that last week too."

Laurel snorted with laughter. "Sorry sweetheart. We promise not to embarrass you in front of your friends."

"_Please!_" he stressed emphatically.

However, he didn't really mean it. He liked that his parents openly displayed their love for one another. It was one of the reasons he, in turn, felt loved and wanted. They showered as much affection on him.

The doorbell rang.

"I'll get it! Come on Sarah!" he called excitedly as he ran for the front door, his sister hot on his heels.

Laurel watched them go. "Our son is growing too fast," she complained. "Next year he'll be a teen!"

When Slade didn't respond, she looked up at him. He was staring at her with so much love that she felt a lump rise in her throat.

"Thank you for loving him," he said simply.

She smiled. "I couldn't help myself. It was as natural to me as loving you."

He kissed her tenderly one last time before he grasped her hand.

"Let's see who's arrived."

Together, they headed toward the chatter in the next room.

* * *

Tommy and Thea had arrived with their children, Rebecca and Meghan. At seven months old, they were cute as buttons.

"There's the best security consultant, _ever_!" Tommy said as he walked toward him.

Slade laughed and shook hands with the younger man.

He'd never been keen on working for someone else again, so instead of taking up Tommy's offer to head up his security team, he'd agreed to act independently as a consultant. What had started out as a means of keeping busy while he decided what he wanted to do, had turned into a pretty lucrative business. Once other companies in Starling City had heard about the great work he was doing for Merlyn Global, and later Queen Consolidated, more requests for similar services had come flooding in. As a result, in two short years he'd started and grown a very successful corporate security consultancy.

Tommy was holding a sleeping Meghan in his arms while Thea carried the other twin who was equally unconscious. Taking the sleeping infant from her father, Laurel gestured for Thea to follow her.

"Congrats, my friend. Your son is on the brink of manhood," Tommy laughed.

Slade groaned. "Don't remind me. He's already too big for his boots."

The other man chortled. "He's a good kid. You're lucky."

Slade nodded. _Don't I know it?_ Things with Joe could so easily have gone badly. However, he attributed their success with him to Laurel. From the start she'd had a natural way with him and if anything, that bond between them had been the thing that had kept Joe grounded.

"Uncle Tommy, whoa, this is _awesome_!" Joe breathed in disbelief as he stared at the two VIP tickets to see his favourite band live. "Thanks!"

Tommy ruffled his hair affectionately. "You're welcome."

"It was totally my idea," Thea claimed as she breezed back in and winked at her husband. "Happy birthday, Joe!" She hugged and kissed him.

He gave her a hard squeeze in return. "This is like, the best! You guys are _so cool_!"

Slade shook his head, amused. That was exactly what Joe had said when he and Laurel had presented him with the latest Xbox.

Thea laughed. "Hear that, Merlyn? We're _cool_!"

There was a noise at the door and Felicity waltzed in, Oliver following closely behind. She was holding Robbie's hand, but as soon as he saw Slade he broke free and ran toward him. Slade picked him up and threw him into the air.

"If it isn't my favourite little man," he laughed.

Sarah, noting her father's attention on someone other than her, ran over and tugged on his jeans. At the sight of her pout, he grinned and picked her up too. Happy to share, she babbled unintelligibly at Robbie.

Oliver walked over to him, his six month old daughter, Olivia in his arms. "I'd shake your hand, brother, but I can see that you already have your hands full," he noted jokingly.

"What can I say? I'm a popular man."

"I think it's the accent," replied Felicity. "It's totally attractive."

"I concur," said Laurel as she reached him, handing Sarah and Robbie a small bottle of juice each. When he looked at her she winked at him saucily and he felt the irrational desire to throw everyone out so he could have her all to himself.

Tommy rolled his eyes drolly. "No offense Slade," the dark haired man said, looking at him before he glanced at his sister-in-law, "but I don't get it."

Slade shrugged good naturedly. "None taken, mate." He gently placed the two children side by side on the couch and kept an eye on them as they sipped.

Thea slid an arm around her husband's waist as she cuddled against his side. "Oh, I'd be very worried if you did, Merlyn."

"Happy birthday, Joe!" Felicity grinned merrily as she presented him with a wrapped rectangular box. "This is from us. I hope you like it," she added with an excited laugh as he barreled into her, giving her a hug. "I personally find it very useful, even though Oliver doesn't really use his to it's full potential. I could show you some really neat tricks if you-" She stopped, abruptly. "I think I'm ruining the surprise, aren't I?"

Joe just grinned and Oliver gave his wife an adoring look as he wished the young man on his special day.

"You're my God-son, so we have an extra special bond," he said loud enough for Tommy to hear. The other man scoffed loudly before uttering, "oh please!" with equal volume.

Everyone laughed.

"Happy birthday, champ. Keep making us all proud."

Joe hugged Oliver before he tore the wrapping off his gift. His eyes grew large when he spied the contents. It was the new Windows Tablet which hadn't even been released yet. He caressed the box lovingly. "Wow," he breathed, in awe.

Felicity laughed. "I just know you're going to be so much better at technology than the grown men around you."

All the women laughed and the men ribbed one other trying to determine who was the worst. Slade lost out.

The doorbell rang again and Moira, Walter, Diggle, Carly and A.J arrived.

The lounge grew crowded as all the adults shuffled around so that the newcomers could wish the birthday boy. More hugs and kisses were dished out, along with some more presents: his own digital camera from Moira and Walter and a collectors edition box set of all the _Iron Man_ movies from the Diggle's (which got a whoop of delight from Joe). They were his favourite.

"Laurel, my dear, you look wonderful," Walter said as he gave her a kiss on the cheek before shaking Slade's hand.

His wife smiled at the older man who was always so distinguished. "Thank you for coming."

Moira appeared at her husband's side with Sarah holding onto her one hand and Robbie the other. "We wouldn't have missed it for the world. You know we love seeing the children."

"A.J, guess where we're going?" Joe showed his best friend the tickets that he'd received from the Merlyn's.

"No one will believe us when we tell them!" A.J said excitedly as he ran his hands over the black lettering on the rectangular cards, as though testing its authenticity.

"I don't recall you asking me if you can go anywhere?" Carly interjected, trying to keep a straight face.

A.J groaned. "Aww, Mom!"

"Just kidding," she said as she hugged both boys to her side.

The last of the adults to arrive was his father-in-law. They'd had a rocky beginning, but it hadn't taken Quentin long to realize how devoted Slade was to his daughter. As soon as he'd recognized it, their relationship had changed. There was a mutual respect and genuine fondness between them that had only grown as Quentin and Joe had bonded. By the time Sarah had come along, Slade was already calling the older man "Dad."

"Grandpa!" called Joe as the cop made his way into the room. He greeted all of the adults civilly as he passed them by. Despite the fact that he'd probably never be best friends with any of the Queen's, he'd let go of his vendetta. Doing so had made him a happier man.

"There's my boy!" The two embraced.

Joe pulled back first. "I was worried that you wouldn't make it."

Quentin shook his head. "Never. I just had some last minute things to sort out at the office. And," he pulled a wrapped box from his pocket, "to get you this."

Joe accepted it and tore off the wrapping. Slade could tell that Quentin appeared a little nervous.

Opening the box, Joe gasped. Inside was some fishing tackle, an exquisite fly attached to a hook. Slade smiled. He knew his son well enough to know that his grandfather's gift would be his favourite. Whenever Quentin had the time, he took Joe fly fishing. It was the one love they shared and had developed into a hobby that his son absolutely adored.

Joe beamed from ear to ear. "It's perfect! I love it!" They embraced again and Slade noticed that the older man seemed a little affected. If only he knew that he'd scored the home run.

Laurel linked her arm through his as they watched Joe thank everyone. "He's a lucky boy," she said lovingly. "There are so many people who care about him."

Slade felt a little choked. The families gathered in his home had been unbelievably supportive over the past few years. They were truly the best people he'd ever known.

Soon Joe's friends started arriving and they moved to the back of the house, close to the pool. Snacks were distributed and the men made their way to the grill to get the hot dogs going.

It was noisy and crowded and more than a little chaotic, but Slade loved every minute of it. The sounds of laughter wafting into the air had become a regular surrounding since he'd married Laurel. It was indicative of what his life was like – filled with family and friends and good times. He'd never been happier.

He scanned the crowd as he flipped burger buns along with Tommy and Oliver who were beside him, aprons tied around their waists, laughing uproariously at something Diggle had said. Walter was standing close by engaged in what looked like a debate with his father-in-law. He smiled. Some things never changed.

Moving on he noticed Felicity and Laurel assembling hot dogs and handing them out amongst the kids with Sarah and Robbie darting playfully between their legs. Thea was sitting on a bench in the sun with her mother and Carly, each woman holding a baby while they chatted happily.

Joe, A.J and some friends were laughing hysterically between bouts of shoving food into their mouths. His son looked relaxed and in high spirits. He still went to see his biological mother twice a year and they seemed to have a much better relationship although he doubted that Joe would ever want to move back permanently.

Laurel had been right. Joe was a lucky boy.

_And so am I._

"You okay, man?" Diggle asked, interrupting his reverie.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Dig's trying to deflect. We all wanna know when he's making an honest woman of Carly," Tommy piped up.

Diggle groaned. "Come on, guys. This is not the appropriate time to be having this discussion. We should be watching the kids."

Slade laughed. "Trust me, we're watching the kids."

"It's been five years, Dig," Oliver added, amused at his friend's discomfiture.

"Personally, I highly recommend the institution. I'm sure my fellow shackled men would agree?" Tommy asked, looking at Slade and Oliver, his lips curling up at the corners.

Oliver nodded. "I would."

"Most definitely," said Slade.

Diggle busied himself flipping the hot dogs. "Okay, okay." He lowered his voice and looked around suspiciously. "I'm planning on asking," he confessed.

Tommy grinned broadly and exclaimed, "Finally!" as Oliver and Slade patted Diggle on the back excitedly.

"By bloody time, mate!"

"I can't believe the man who gave me advice on love and relationships has been so tardy in managing his own," Oliver chuckled.

Diggle grinned nervously. "Thanks guys. I know it's taken a while, but as you all know it's been-"

Slade, Tommy and Oliver interjected in unison, "Complicated."

Diggle looked at them in surprise. "I've said it that much?"

"Yeah," laughed Tommy.

"Old news," said Oliver.

"Poor excuse," quipped Slade.

Their combined laughter filtered through the house as they continued to give Diggle a hard time.

* * *

Laurel sat down on the bench overlooking the back garden. Everyone had left a few minutes before and thanks to the women, all evidence of the party had been cleared away. After the busy day, it was nice to finally be still.

"Everything alright?" Slade asked as he sat down beside her. Automatically she curled against him as he placed his arm around her shoulders.

She kissed the side of his neck. "Everything is perfect."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before she asked, "Where are the kids?"

"Sarah is _helping_ Joe pack his gifts away," he replied drolly.

Laurel laughed. "Translated: She's wreaking havoc."

"Most probably," he agreed, laughter in his voice.

They snuggled together. "What were you and the guys laughing about earlier?"

Slade ran a hand up and down her arm, his cheek resting against the top of her head. "Dig's finally going to ask Carly to marry him."

Laurel gasped and looked at him. "That's wonderful news! I know she's been hinting quite heavily."

Her husband chuckled as she settled against him again. "It's by bloody time. They've been together longer than Oliver and Felicity!"

"Another wedding," she sighed. She hesitated for a second. "And more babies," she added, tentatively.

"More? Our house was like rent-a-kid today. Small bodies coming out of every crevice."

Laurel went still. "You found it unpleasant?"

"Of course not. I knew all of them."

"Slade, there's something I need to tell you." She leaned back until their eyes met.

He reached up and traced the curve of her cheek. "You're not planning on redecorating our bedroom again, are you? Because you know I'm generally easy going, but I can't wrap my mind around pastel pink walls."

The look of horror on his face made her burst out laughing. "No, it's nothing like that."

He heaved a sigh of relief. "Then I can handle anything."

She chewed on her lower lip nervously. "I know we never really discussed this but it sort of happened and I'm hoping that you're not going to be too-"

"What is it?" he asked, looking a little worried.

Laurel swallowed, her mouth dry. "Well, you see-"

"For Christ's sake, Laurel, spit it out!"

"I'm pregnant."

For a second her just stared at her, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly ajar. The next instant he was crushing her against him.

"Here I thought it was something serious," he whispered against her shoulder.

She giggled. "An unplanned pregnancy usually is."

He shook his head. "Unplanned, perhaps. But never unwanted," he said softly, his voice filled with emotion.

Laurel felt her eyes fill with tears. "So you're happy?"

"More than happy. I'm ecstatic."

He kissed her deeply and reverently, their breaths mingling, his hands gently exploring her still flat tummy. Laurel lost herself in the moment, her fingers running through his hair as he angled his mouth across hers to gain better access.

Her skin tingled everywhere he touched her, her arms around his neck to hold his lips captive, enjoying every moment of the slow torment. It was always the same between them – hot, passionate and all encompassing. He never failed to make her want him.

"How far along are we?" he asked when he eventually let her up for air.

Her breathing was a little ragged. "About three weeks, I think. I'll make an appointment with the Doctor so he can confirm."

"I can't wait."

She laughed. "This one's a boy. I don't know why I think that, but I do. It just feels different to the last time."

His warm hand rested against her belly. "Boy or girl, it doesn't matter to me. As long as you and the baby are both healthy."

"I love you, Slade," she murmured, staring into the depths of his dark eyes. She'd never loved anyone as much as she loved him.

He rubbed their noses together affectionately. "I love you too."

They heard footsteps behind them and turned to see Joe carrying Sarah toward them. Laurel scooted to the other end of the bench and made room for their children, patting the seat in welcome. Joe sat down between them, his sister on his lap. Laurel moved closer again until they were all sandwiched together.

"Your Mom has some news," Slade said as his daughter reached for him.

"Da da da da da!"

Joe looked at her expectantly.

"We're having another baby," she said with a smile.

Joe's face broke into an ear splitting grin as he hugged her tightly. "Do you think you could have twins too?"

Slade choked. "One at a time, please, kid."

Laurel laughed as she ran a hand over her son's hair. "We'll have to wait and see. You and Sarah and the new baby are the best presents your father ever gave me. I hope you know that," she said lovingly.

He nodded, allowing her to hold him against her. "I love you both too."

Sarah leaned over and patted her brother's back until he looked at her and smiled. "J-oh!" she said, bouncing on her father's legs.

They all laughed.

"Dad? You never did tell me how you and Mom met?" Joe asked curiously.

Slade looked at him and replied with a straight-face. "Well, we each thought the other was an intruder so I slammed your Mom into a wall and she retaliated by nailing me in the balls."

Laurel gasped. "Slade!"

Joe was giggling with glee. "No ways? Did you hear that Sarah?"

His sister grinned, clapping her hands together. "Ma ma ma ma ma!"

Laurel reached for her daughter and kissed her chubby cheek while her husband looked at her mischievously.

"That's exactly how it happened."

Joe looked at her for confirmation.

"It did," she admitted with a smile, rolling her eyes.

Joe hooted with laughter and Laurel's heart rejoiced at the sound. He'd come a long way, they all had, but she had no regrets. Fate had waved her magic wand and against all odds, they'd found each other. Slade was the love of her life and she wouldn't trade what they'd created together for anything in the world.

Over the heads of their children, their eyes met and lingered. In their depths was the promise of their commitment to each other and the abiding love that would last them a lifetime.

**THE END**


End file.
